The Road to Rediscovery
by SoA
Summary: The destruction of the Star Forge leaves both peace and chaos in its wake. As Evure Pell struggles with the realities of her past-and future as Revan, Telos begins restoration, and many other heroes of the war try to find their place in a changed galaxy.
1. Chapter 1

Part 1- Knighted

The afternoon sun shone down on the Jedi Temple. The smiling faces that surrounded them only added to the brightness. Bastila Shan, Juhani, Jolee Bindo, and Evrue Pell had returned, and nearly every young Jedi who could sneak out of their routines met them on the landing platform. Even a few older ones joined in the cheerful spectacle, jeering their welcome and congratulations. Although news of their actions in the war and aboard the Star Forge had not yet gotten out on the news feeds, gossip spread quickly among the Jedi.

A young boy with a padawan braid tucked behind his ear jockeyed up to Ev's side. "You're Darth Revan?" he asked in half-wonderment, half-disbelief.

Ev chuckled and spread her arms wide, "Do I look like a Dark Lord to you?"

The padawan did not have a chance to respond.

"Shoo, shoo," an elderly Arkanian woman pushed her way through the crowd, "Get back to your duties. They have a meeting with the Jedi High Council presently, and I cannot allow you to detain them." She had only one hand.

Only a few of the younger Jedi looked disappointed. Most of the rest shot excited glances at the quartet before breaking away.

"Now, that's better," the Arkanian said, smoothing the sleeve of her robe over the stump where her right hand had been not long ago. "Welcome back to the Jedi Temple. I am sorry about all that."

"Master Anika!" Juhani exclaimed in recognition. Anika Epiere had been part of the Jedi strike team that had assisted them aboard the Star Forge. In that battle, she had lost not only hand but her padawan. The pain of the ordeal still showed, etched in the lines of her face.

"It was no trouble at all," Ev said for all of them.

"I'm glad," Anika replied with a repressed smile, still smoothing at her sleeve. "Now, it is my understanding that it is been quite a while since any of you have been at the Jedi Temple."

"'Quite a while'? Heh!" Jolee laughed dryly, "Try fifty years."

"As the temple is vast, I have been sent to guide you to the council chambers," Anika continued, ignoring him.

"Thank you Master Anika," Bastila said calmly, "Please lead the way."

Even as Anika led them off the landing platform, the young Jedi still watched them curiously from wherever they could without incurring the Arkanian's scolding again. Ev smiled slyly and winked at a knot of young initiates. They erupted into giggles and whispers, still staring. The quartet of Jedi did provide an interesting sight.

Among the four returned heroes, only Juhani wore typical Jedi robes, and even hers were a brilliant rust red color, trimmed with blue. Bastila had returned to the pale yellow bodysuit armored with leather that she had favored all her days as a padawan. Thanks to her skills with battle meditation, she had always thought herself special and dressed to match it. The petite, dark-skinned Evrue Pell draped herself in a long white robe with a leather armored bodice. The whole outfit, save for the coloring, was distinctly reminiscent of Darth Revan. Though she admitted it to no one, she probably like it that way. Jolee, of the four of them, was the only one dressed in the favored beiges and browns of the Jedi, and he was the only non-Jedi among them. The loose tunic and pants he had worn since Kashyyyk were hardly styled after Jedi robes, but their colors certainly were. Old habits died hard.

More fascinating than odd appearance of the unlikely quartet were the tales and speculations that were being told around the Jedi Temple. It was common knowledge even now that the Sith were disorganized and on the run. Whispers carried the story that Darth Malak was dead as well, but Darth Revan was not, as they had been led to believe. In fact, it was Revan who killed him, assisted by the famous Bastila Shan, a little-known Cathar Jedi, and an old hermit who could use the Force as well as any Jedi. How could any of that be possible—save for the heroism of Bastila Shan?

As Master Anika took them into one of the great pillared halls of the temple, Ev let out a low gasp, "Stunning. Imposing. I should expect nothing less from the Jedi." Stretching out, it seemed, as far as they eye could see, were grand polished pillars of at least three colors of stone. They strode in a straight aisle between them, unseen eyes from within the maze of pillars on them all the while. Ev hardly needed to reach out to sense their intense curiosity.

"Jolee, you said it has been fifty years since you were last here," Juhani observed. Even she too seemed in awe of the grandeur of the Jedi Temple. Those students trained on Coruscant took it for granted, but Dantooine-trained younglings grew up to regard the temple with their jaws hanging open.

"Something like that," Jolee chuckled, "You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say they designed this place to imitate the holy woshyr of Kashyyyk. Pales in comparison to the real thing, though."

"Oh hush," Bastila snapped half-jokingly, "Are you so anxious to be back under your log that you can't appreciated the Jedi Temple when you have been invited back to it?"

"Me invited back?" Jolee scoffed playfully, "I'm just your crotchety, old tag-along."

"Come on, Jolee," Ev elbowed him, "We owe you more than just to call you that. At the very least, you're my favorite crotchety, old tag-along I've ever had."

"That so?" Jolee laughed.

"What was the Jedi Temple like fifty years ago," Juhani asked, "I know they have been building and improving it for years now."

"My memory has gone all fuzzy, but at least all these woshyr-pillars look the same," Jolee shrugged, "When I stormed out of this place, proud and angry, fifty years ago, I hated these pillars. They were ugly and repressive, like the whole rest of this damned place."

Master Anika, still walking ahead of them, drew in a sharp breath.

"But seeing it in a better light, they're not so bad," Jolee admitted, "Though I still like the real woshyr trees better. No doubt Nomi has done some redecorating—like all of those indoor gardens she was talking about. She was always a good house-mom to this place."

"You would speak of the Grand Master of the Jedi Order as a 'house-mom'?" Anika snapped in a low whisper.

"Why not?" Jolee asked indifferently.

Anika held her peace. Evidently, she was finally learning that it was fruitless to argue with Jolee.

"It must have been nearly three years since I was last here myself," Juhani admitted quietly as Anika turned and led them towards a grand doorway along the wall. "It was when Quatra and I came to study the archives in preparation for our mission against the Sith on the outer rim."

They came into a narrower hall, dotted with lush potted plants. There was a lift at the far end with several other Jedi waiting patiently in front of its closed doors. Sunlight streamed in from vaulted windows near the ceiling. A trio of younglings scurried past them, late for something. One looked over his shoulder at them and gaped wide-eyed for a moment before hurrying on.

"I think the last time I must have been here was when the council granted me the _Endar Spire_ and gave me my mission to seek the secret of the Sith's power," Bastila said distantly. She hesitated for a moment, then added, "It was when they told me that Revan—Ev, you were 'finished' and ready. It took them almost a year."

"A ready puppet for the Jedi's cause," Ev murmured.

"I was only present at the beginning," Bastila said quickly, "when they needed my connection with you in order to stabilize your life force. You don't hold it against me, do you Ev?"

"You? No," Ev shook her head. As her gazed drifted over the Jedi in the hall around them, all of whom quickly pretended not to be staring, she felt wary—almost trapped. "No, I couldn't hold a grudge against you, Bastila. You tried to save me, to keep me alive. What you did was out of compassion. Where the council took it from there is out of your hands, and for their own purposes. If I have any grudges to hold, it's against those puppeteers who dropped me into your hands and told you what to do."

Bastila let out a sigh of relief, but there was still an unseen weight on her shoulders; a weight that had haunted her ever since Ev had found her on the Star Forge and convinced her to return to the Light. They arrived at the lift doors, and the other Jedi waiting around them stepped aside.

"Since we're all reminiscing," Ev mused, changing the subject, "I bet the last time I was here was probably when I took off for the Mandalorian Wars, never to return, though, of course, I wouldn't remember any of that."

"No, you returned once more after that," said an old Jedi who had been leaning casually beside the lift doors since they had entered the hall. He was gray-haired and going bald, but there was a fit, liveliness about him even still. "To tell the Jedi Council that the war would be over soon, though few believed you. You didn't tell the masters even then of your secret weapon."

Ev leveled her dark gaze at him. "It seems that we have met before," she said evenly, "But I don't remember you, Master Jedi."

"You wouldn't," he replied with equal gravity. "Can't say I agree with the circumstances that led to your amnesia, but what's done is done." Shrugging himself into a smile to ease the rising tension, "But where are my manners? I should be welcoming you all back as heroes! The valiant Evrue Pell, I hear that's what they're calling you now, youthful prodigy Bastila Shan, and—oh, what was it—Juhani, right?" he tapped his forehead as if it would help him remember, "And Jolee Bindo, the prodigal padawan returned at last. I should have know you were still out there making trouble somewhere." The old Jedi grinned.

"Blast my hold, if it isn't Visto Cafran!" Jolee laughed. He lunged forward and shook Visto's hand enthusiastically, "What're you doing here?"

"What I've always been," Visto replied firmly, green eyes smiling, "Stirring things up, keeping all these people humble, and doing the bidding of the council now and then. But now that you're back, I'm going to have to hand over 'kookiest old Jedi' title to you again."

"Hey now," Jolee said warningly raising a hand, "Who ever said I was rejoining the Jedi Order?"

"Then what are you doing her, old friend?" Visto asked, with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

The lift made a subdued ding and the doors slid open. "Come," Anika urged her charges.

"Now you just wait one minute," Jolee wagged a finger at her, "I'm not going anywhere in a hurry. I've got a friend to catch up with."

"So?" Visto persisted.

"He says he has come along to humor the High Council at their request to have him here and to let them fawn on him with their praises, and then be done with them and their flawed moralities for good," Juhani said, yellow eyes dancing, as if she knew better.

"Is that so?" Master Anika asked huffily.

"I didn't say anything like that," Jolee snapped irritably.

"Sure you did," Ev insisted playfully.

"We are holding up the lift," Bastila reminded them.

"I won't delay you any longer," Visto said with a courteous, though stiff bow, "And I know I'll be seeing you around the temple later on, Jolee, no matter what you're saying now."

"Don't you go making any high-handed predictions about me, Cafran!" Jolee warned as he was ushered onto the lift by the others.

Visto only laughed as the lift doors slid shut again.

As the lift raced up the temple spire, making several stops along the way, Jolee's irritation faded slowly into bemusement. "Imagine that: Visto Cafran still alive and kicking!" he muttered to himself, "After the war with Exar Kun, I thought he'd never be himself again. Well, prove me wrong."

Master Anika's foot tapped impatiently as the lift slowed to a stop at nearly every level. One Jedi would step off as another would shuffle on. At one floor, a clump of knee-high younglings poured on, chattering animatedly.

"Oh yeah? I bet I could lift that bogee tree, pot and all," one of the little boys boasted

"I bet'cha I could lift Master Waykennit," a second bragged.

"No," a third little girl called his bluff, wide-eyed.

"I bet you could," Ev joined their conversation, "And even Master Vrook too, if he'd let you."

All six younglings beheld her with stunned wide-eyes.

"Not Master Vrook, never," a young Nautolan moaned fearfully.

Ev laughed, "In the Force, anything is possible."

Realization suddenly struck one of the little boys, "Hey! You're those four Jedi who took down Darth Malak! Was it hard?"

"Rumors of a confidential nature certainly do travel quickly," Bastila observed under her breath.

Ev squatted down as far as she could in the confines of the crowed lift. "I'll tell you this," she answered, "Nothing a Jedi does is ever easy. Dueling Malak may have only taken five or ten minutes, but getting to that point took a lifetime."

"I hope I grow up to be a hero like you or Bastila, or—or those two," a little Echani girl gushed.

"I hope you become your own kind of hero, if you have to be a hero at all," Ev said darkly, straightening up, "I wouldn't wish my fate on anyone."

"But will you teach me?" the girl asked eagerly.

"You're a bit young to be a padawan, aren't you?" Ev observed. "And besides, I'm still a padawan myself."

"Really?" the little Nautolan gasped.

The lift slowed to a stop again and the doors slid open. The younglings poured out around a wiry built Jedi with a head of messy black hair to rival Ev's. He smiled warmly at all of them.

"Master Waykennit! Master Waykennit!" one of the little boys said urgently, "Abel said he bet he could lift you!"

"I bet he could," the spindly Jedi laughed and pat the boy on the head, "and you too, but that will have to wait for another day. I am called to sit with the Jedi High Council this afternoon."

The children moaned their despair.

"Don't worry, I will leave you in the capable hands of Master Epeire," he said said warmly, "Who will take over your lessons for the day."

Anika Epeire looked flustered for a moment at the sudden assignment, but quickly smoothed herself over. "Yes, of course," she said, "I would be glad to be of help. Come children." She squeezed off the lift as Master Waykennit stepped on.

"I will see them to the council chambers myself," he assured Anika.

"Of course," she repeated with a respectful bow.

As the doors slid shut, Juhani added quickly, "Thank you, Master Anika."

The Arkanian woman hardly had time to wave before they were whizzing upward again, this time with no more interruptions.

Master Waykennit surveyed the four other Jedi in the lift with him, eyes lingering on Ev. Finally, he extended a hand to her, "I am Embrik Waykennit. I have been wanting to meet you for some months now. What do you prefer to be called these days?"

Ev eyed him suspiciously then answered succinctly, "Ev."

He drew back and chuckled. "And you are wondering under what circumstances we last met?" Embrik guessed.

"It is a question that has been on my mind a lot lately," Ev replied, but betrayed none of her inner feelings.

"We never met as foes, I can promise that," Embrik's easy smile seemed to ease the tension in the lift, "I don't think I would have survived it if we had. I have always had the highest respect for you, and would have made you my padawan had Master Kae not gotten to you first. And I am sure you will go far even now."

"Thank you, Master Waykennit," she made a polite bow, "I am glad to know that I didn't burn all of my bridges as Revan."

"Please, just call me Embrik, Ev," he protested and rested a hand on her shoulder. He was barely taller than she was. "I should say that—" he cut himself short as the lift stopped and the doors slid silently open once again. Sweeping his arm out in a wide gesture, he said, "The Jedi High Council chambers are just this way."

There was only a short, tiled hallway between the lift landing and a set of massive wooden doors—wood that must have been unimaginably expensive on Coruscant, even after the Great Hyperspace war when the temple was built. Master Embrik raised his hands into the air and the doors swung gently towards them, leaving enough space in between for them to pass. As soon as the party was inside, Embrik made a curt bow and announced, "Masters of the High Council, may I present the newest heroes of the Republic: Jedi Knight Juhani, Padawan Bastila Shan, Padawan Evrue Pell, and the former padawan, Jolee Bindo."

Ev heard the doors slide closed again behind them, though she did not notice which of the Jedi Masters present had done it.

"It is of heroes, in this age, that we must be most careful," Ev heard Master Vrook murmur.

"Welcome back to the Jedi Temple," a slender woman with vibrant red hair streaked with gray smiled warmly at them. She sat directly across from the door where they all stood. Bastila and Juhani stepped into the center of the circle of the chairs and bowed respectfully. Ev glanced over at Jolee, who shrugged, and they joined their two friends at the center of the room.

Ev gazed back at Master Embrik, who still stood in front of the only empty chair in the room. Embrik met her gaze then shot a quick glance at the elegant woman at the head of the room again before he began, "Ev, as you would not remember, and Jolee as you have been away for a long while, please allow me to introduce the Jedi High Council." Still standing, he first gestured to the woman who had welcomed them, "This is Master Nomi Sunrider, Grandmaster of the Jedi Order."

"Nomi Sunrider," Jolee guffawed, putting a hand to his forehead, "So you've gotten yourself to the head of the Jedi Order?" Turning to Ev, he added, "I always knew the pretty lass would go far."

Nomi's eyes danced and a smile played at the corner of her lips, "It is always good to see an old friend again, Jolee."

Embrik next gestured to the small greenish Jedi seated to the right of Nomi. "This, as you know, is Master Vandar Tokare, who joined Master Nomi in leading the Jedi assault on the Star Force," he explained and Vandar nodded in acknowledgment. Next to Vandar, pointed out a strong-jawed blond-haired man, wearing only simple brown and beige robes. Even at his age, he was strikingly handsome. "This is Master Kavar Ardale and Tyjesh Kay." The tiny furry Jedi next to Kavar, nearly as small as Vandar, had a long angular face, dark eyes, and long, pointed ears. _A Bimm,_ Ev reminded herself. The Bimm woman wore goldenrod yellow clothes that were shaped more like a dress than Jedi robes. She tilted her head slightly in recognition.

Next to the Bimm sat a sturdy-looking man with shaggy brown hair and a mustache to rival any Ev had ever seen. If not for the plain Jedi robes he wore, Ev would have marked him for a rowdy, gun-slinging frontiersman. "This is Master Zez-Kai Ell," Embrik announced. At the mention of his name Zez-Kai clasped his hands together and nodded twice. Between Master Ell and Embrik's own seat sat a tall and slender pink skinned woman who was almost completely covered in shaggy white fur. Her short-cropped hair on her head seemed almost like a white mane. A Devaronian female; so unlike the males of her species that Ev had almost been unable to place her. "And this is Master Ruell D'tarn," Embrik said. Ruell smiled, relieving two rows of sharp, cat-like teeth.

Gesturing back to the balding red-robed man to Nomi's left, Embrik continued, "This is Master Vrook Lamar, whom I am sure you are all acquainted with." Ev almost caught distaste in the younger Jedi Master's voice. To Vrook's left was a younger looking woman dressed entirely in white and had stunning white hair to match. "This is Master Atris, Jedi Historian," he said. Atris remained pensively still with her hands together, not acknowledging the mention of her name.

Next to Atris sat a quiet sort of balding black man. Pleasant wrinkles lined his face. "This is another of our Jedi Historians, Master Tchaan Dorak, who has been serving at the enclave on Dantooine," Embrik explained. This was clearly for Jolee's benefit. Sitting Next to Dorak was a sandy-brown Gotal whose fur was already going silver. "This is Master Kronn Hakkes, our emissary to the Supreme Chancellor and the Senate," he introduced the Gotal, then shifted to the final Master who sat across the door from him. With flaming red hair tied back in a low ponytail, their was a thrilling liveliness about her that Ev had not seen in any others who had been raised by the Jedi. "And finally, this is Master Vima Sunrider," Embrik said.

Vima grinned broadly at them. "Welcome back to the Jedi Temple, all of you," she said brightly.

The four standing in the middle, even Jolee, bowed at her.

Chuckling and grinning back, Jolee marveled, "Last time I saw you, you were a little squirt who couldn't even hold a lightsaber yet, always getting into trouble."

"And, if I recall, Jolee," Vima flashed a smile back at him, "You were plenty enough trouble yourself."

Jolee laughed, "Strike and parry."

"Must you reply to everything said, Jolee Bindo?" the Gotal sitting next to her asked disapprovingly.

"My apologies, Master Hakkes," Jolee replied, heavy with sarcasm, and dipped his head in a bow.

"Thank you Master Waykennit," Nomi drew all the attention back to herself again. Embrik nodded and finally took his seat. She then addressed the four people standing before her, "Juhani, Bastila, Evrue—I hear you wish to be called Ev, and Jolee, we have asked you to come before us in order that we might formally thank you."

"We did nothing more than what was asked of us, and follow our duties as Jedi," Bastila protested humbly.

"Oh?" Zez-Kai Ell asked, "Didn't you?"

"This was, of course, the task assigned to you, Bastila," Nomi acknowledged, "But it would not have been possible at all, had you not boldly moved to save Revan a year ago. You knew what rested on your shoulders—the fate of the war, and yet you did not falter. That is commendable, especially in a masterless padawan. You have done well, Bastila, very well. Master Shol would be proud."

Bastila blushed and looked down at the geometrically tiled floor beneath her feet.

"And you, Ev," Nomi continued, "You who were thrust into this plot, you who carried so many of our hopes and our doubts, you were the axis about which this whole mission turned. When confronted with the Dark Side, the truth of your past, and even the loss of Bastila, you pressed on and brought about the destruction of Dark Malak and his Sith Empire."

"Perhaps by your actions, the past may be forgiven," Atris added.

Ev regarded her coldly, her face unreadable. "Thank you for those sentiments," she said coolly.

"Juhani and Jolee," Nomi said, "You two voluntarily joined onto Bastila and Ev's mission without fully knowing with it entailed."

"I don't even think they knew," Jolee murmured.

The Gotal cleared his throat loudly.

Nomi ignored the exchange and continued unbothered, "It seems that without you, they may not have succeeded. I commend you both for your courage and commitment to restoring the peace, especially in light of each of your own falls. Juhani, you have risen back from the Dark Side a stronger woman and stronger Jedi. Jolee, you once said that the Jedi Order had left you and that you would never return. Despite your intentions, I am glad that the Jedi have found you again, for the sake of our galaxy and our freedom. Thank you both."

"When we sent you all on your mission," Zez-Kai Ell began, "We could not foresee what would come of it. The Dark Side has clouded our vision since this war began. But we had hope for the Jedi and for the Republic, and you were that hope. It was the will of the Force, Bastila, that you should confront Revan as you did, and it was the will of the Force that Revan should undo what she wrought."

"Awfully wasteful plan for the Force, if you ask me," Ev murmured under her breath.

Juhani shot her a nervous glance.

"Padawan Evrue Pell," Atris observed, "You seem ungrateful for the second chance we gave you."

Ev straightened up and cleared her throat. "Pardon me, Masters," she replied stiffly, "that I am not grateful for the tampering you did with my head, with my very being. Please forgive my resentment. As you are quick to point out yourselves, I was not too long ago a slave to the Dark Side. Give me some time, and maybe I will come to appreciate this 'gift' you have given me as what you convey it to be."

A stunned silence hung over the council chamber. It seemed that none of the Jedi Masters had expected to find such feelings in Ev.

Jolee chuckled.

Master Kavar was the first to speak again, "But we did not bring you here just to shower you four with praise. Juhani, your master Quatra did well to knight you when she did. As for the rest of you, your masters are dead and unable to recommend you to us. However, your actions have given your recommendations themselves."

"Bastila," Vandar began, "Your trials began a year ago when you and your master lead the attack on the Sith fleet. Your controlled use of battle meditation to bring about such a confrontation, your level-headed leadership in the face of grief and adversity, and your preservation of Revan; through these actions you passed your Trial of Skill."

Ev saw Bastila's hand twitch towards her mouth to cover a gasp, but she held herself steadily and composed.

"You faced your Trial of the Flesh that day as well, and in the weeks after," Vrook added, "As you came to terms with the death of your master."

"Perhaps, at that time, you thought you were ready to be knighted," Vandar continued, "But you still had two more trials to face."

"Your duel with Darth Malak aboard the _Leviathan_, intending to sacrifice yourself for the mission and your companions took bravery beyond yourself," Vrook took up the thread again, "This was your Trail of Courage."

"And your Trial of the Spirit, young Bastila Shan," Nomi Sunrider explained, "was your fight with the Dark Side. I sense you see your fall to the Dark Side as your greatest failure, but you know better than most its lures and temptations. However, you rose above it and you understand your folly. You are a stronger Jedi by it, Bastila, and we will now proudly accept you as a Jedi Knight, young as you are."

"I—I thank you," Bastila stammered, bowing towards Nomi, Vrook, and Vandar all at once.

"And you, Jolee Bindo," Nomi started again with a playful glint in her eyes.

"Wait, wait, wait," Jolee protested and stepped towards Nomi with his hands waving, "I thought I made myself pretty damn clear fifty years ago when I left this blasted place."

"That your crimes could not be forgiven so lightly?" Nomi asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Damn right they couldn't," Jolee retorted.

"And so they will not be," Nomi replied and settled back into her chair, "So, please do me a favor, Jolee, and listen to what we have to say."

"Since it's you doing the asking," Jolee said and crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest, "I think I'll have to."

"Good," Nomi smiled. "Clearly your subverting our rules, marrying, and training the woman the Council forbid you to has weighed heavily on your mind these last fifty years. As has your wife's betrayal. Coming to terms with it, this was your Trial of the Flesh."

"Now wait a minute—" Jolee protested.

"Surviving in the Shadowlands, where few can, and befriending the Wookiees, this was your Trial of Skill," Vima Sunrider put in brightly after her mother.

"You passed your Trial of Courage aboard the Star Forge, where odds were against you," Vrook added.

"I didn't sign up to take any trials again," Jolee argued halfheartedly, but was ignored.

Ev found herself snickering at him.

"And in resisting both your wife and Bastila as they called you to the Dark Side, as well as determining against all hope that you would return Ev to the Light rather than fight her," Nomi finished, "You have passed your Trial of the Spirit."

"You're going to overlook what I did all over again," Jolee pointed out bitterly, "And prove to me that the Jedi Order hasn't changed one bit since I left all those years ago."

"No, Jolee," Nomi replied with sudden gravity, "We are not ignoring the trespasses of your past, as we should not. But you have served out your sentence, meditating upon them in the wilderness for half a century, and we are ready to welcome you back, older and wiser than you were before."

"Older, that's for sure," Jolee grumbled.

"You were perhaps truer to the code than the elders of the Order at that time," Nomi said, "They were too eager to fill the ranks of the Jedi Knights, to replace those who had fallen in the war. For their carelessness in your case, I hope you will accept my—and our apologies."

Jolee was dumbstruck for only a moment before he regained himself, "You really want a crabby old man like me to rejoin the Jedi Order? You're sure you're just not trying to fill up the places of all of those fallen heroes from this war again?"

"Well, that too," a smile crossed Nomi's lips, "But we really do want you back, if you will have us."

Jolee chuckled, "Things have changed around here. And I hope it's your doing, Nomi."

"Then will you accept your knighthood this time or not?" Nomi asked.

"Willingly," Jolee replied.

"And that brings us to Revan, the prodigal Knight," Vrook said dryly.

Ev shifted uncomfortably at the mention of that name.

"Though you achieved full knighthood in your past, we thought it necessary for you to face your trials again to prove that you had indeed returned to us," Vrook continued.

"And have I passed your tests?" Ev asked.

"You have the power and brilliance that you once did," Zez-Kai Ell said, "But that is not enough. It could qualify you as a Sith as easily as as it could as a Jedi."

"Your duel and victory over Malak was your Trial of Skill, one we had no doubt that you would pass," Vrook said.

"Your Trail of Courage was when you infiltrated the Sith and took on the Star Forge alone, determined to bring down the Dark Lord yourself," Dorak put in.

"Your Trial of the Flesh was when you resisted torture at the hands of Saul Karath," Atris added.

"But most important of all was your Trial of the Spirit," Embrik said slowly. Ev realized that it was the first time he had spoken since the initial introductions. "Your training was quick and your powers were immense from the start, yet you did not fall to the temptation of the Dark Side. Even when you knew the truth of your past and your identity, you did not attempt to reclaim the mantle of the Dark Lord, nor did you take the bait with Bastila urged you to join her. After your defeat of Malak, you had the Star Forge in your hands. You could have ruled the Sith again then, but you let it be destroyed and even showed mercy towards its crew. Time and time again, you showed mercy. The flood of Sith trainees that now wish to join the Jedi, we can only assume to be your doing, as with the young Selkath."

"The Selkath were Juhani's doing, actually," Ev corrected respectfully.

"As it may be," Embrik nodded, "But nevertheless, you have passed your trials. You will be knighted once again."

"I'm glad you all," Ev paused, searching for the right word, "approve of me."

"There is but one difficult matter left," Vrook began, "None of you have living masters left to perform your knighthood ceremony. Master Shol died in the assault on the _Taninim_, Master Zhar Lestin died in the attack on the Dantooine enclave, and your master, whoever that was—"

"Master Iviyish," Jolee put in quickly.

"Became one with the Force long ago," Vandar finished.

"I would be honored if, you, Master Vandar would knight me," Bastila said, bowing to him, "As you have been supervising the rest of my training, if from afar."

"Then let it be so," Vandar replied.

"Nomi, would you do me the honor?" Jolee asked with a crooked smile.

"Of course, old friend," she replied warmly.

"I must have had a master before the Mandalorian Wars," Ev observed, "Where is she—or he?"

"Master Kae left the Jedi Order shortly after you did, and we have not seen her since," Atris replied, her voice heavy with distaste.

"Then," Ev began, then turned to face the masters seated by the doorway, "Master Waykennit, you said that you would have liked to take me as a padawan when I was younger. Even though you did not, will you knight me now?"

"I would be honored to," Embrik replied with a warm smile.

"Then it is all settled," Nomi said, "You three will be knighted tomorrow at noon. In the mean time, I believe the Jedi Knight Belaya is waiting outside to attend to your needs."

"Thank you, Masters," Bastila said, overwhelmed with both gratitude and shame.

"You will one day learn to forgive yourself, Bastila," Master Ruell promised, sensing her inner conflict, "But the sooner you do, the better it will be for everyone."

The great wooden doors swung open again, and, as promised, Belaya was waiting patiently outside. Led by Juhani, Ev, Jolee, and Bastila strode out to meet her and the great doors shut behind them.

"I sense much darkness in all of them, though perhaps least of all in that old hermit," Vrook said as soon as the chamber was sealed again, "I don't like it."

"If you will excuse me, Vrook, but what do you like?" Kavar asked dryly.

Vrook shot him a sour look.

"To deny knighthood to a Jedi that knows she is ready is more dangerous than we can afford, Vrook," Kavar argued, "You know that."

"But it is also dangerous to let them know so explicitly how powerful they are," Vrook replied, "When they have tasted the Dark Side already."

"Then we must keep them here under close supervision," Atris suggested firmly.

"And put some of our most capable Jedi to waste?" Vima argued, "I don't need to remind you all how few our numbers are. Less than a hundred Jedi remain in the Order now, and we have not achieved a full victory over the Sith yet. We destroyed their biggest weapon and their most powerful leader, yes, but another can rise in his place. We must wipe the galaxy clean of the Sith once again, and we will need the help of the four heroes who destroyed the Star Forge."

"And they know they are heroes," the Bimm Jedi master observed calmly, "They will not be content to remain on Coruscant while others are away driving off the Sith."

"Master Tyjesh is right," Vima put up a hand for calm, "We cannot keep them here at the temple."

"Then send them all to the Glythe Sector to disrupt the Sith there as soon as they are knighted," Atris suggested.

"No, we cannot do that," Kronn argued, "The politicians and the people will want a good look at their heroes, Jedi included. We must be prepared to release them for a victory tour."

"And waste valuable time in our fight against the Sith?" Atris asked sharply.

"We live in a galaxy that has lost faith in the Jedi," Kronn said, shaking his head, "Let the citizens have their heroes. Then we will put them to work."

"But they cannot be sent together," Vrook argued, "The other three look to Revan as their leader, and she holds an unnatural sway over them. Their loyalty and admiration of her is unmoving. I do not like it."

"Her bond with Bastila is an asset, not a danger," Zez-Kai Ell said, "At the very least, Bastila should remain with her."

"And Juhani and Jolee should be sent elsewhere," Kronn agreed.

"On this point, I disagree with you," Nomi put in, "They are valuable as a team, and every team needs its leader. Because of the trials they have already faced together, the four of them are better prepared to face what still remains of the Sith than almost any of our other Jedi. To split them up immediately would be a waste."

"There is still darkness deep within Ev's core," Tyjesh said, "Perhaps she knows it is there, and perhaps she is willfully ignoring it. But it is there all the same. She could turn on us again at any moment, and she is clever enough that we would never see it coming."

"Which is why we cannot trust her," Atris said derisively.

"I believe it was you who insisted we were giving her a second chance, Atris," Vima observed.

"If we treat her like an enemy, she will begin to believe it herself," Nomi warned, "And this time, her fall would be our doing."

The Temple Court was filled as it had seldom been before. Somehow, nearly overnight, perhaps through the whisperings of padawans, nearly all of Coruscant came to know of the knighting of the heroes of the Battle of the Star Forge. Even as Jolee, Juhani, Ev, and Bastila stood before the Jedi council the afternoon before, the Holonet finally exploded with reports of the Republic's victory and those pivotal heroes that made it possible. Overnight, the entire crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ became celebrities.

Usually, non-Jedi were not present at knighting ceremonies, but the council made an exception so that the other heroes of the Star Forge could come to witness their friends ascension. However, that exception opened the flood gates to a myriad of politicians, grateful navy and army officers, and other curious Coruscanti citizens. Master Kronn Hakkes had done his best to bar journalists from entering, yet even as the ceremony began, a few cameras flashed in the crowd around the hall.

On a raised dais in the center stood Ev, Jolee, and Bastila. The twelve Jedi Masters of the High Council encircled them at the edge of the dais. Their order, however, was slightly altered. Instead of Vrook, Embrik Waykennit stood immediately to Nomi's right.

Just behind them stood Juhani, Carth, Canderous, Mission, Zaalbar, and Kionee Rinnh, all given a place of honor to see their friends.

Excited murmurs filled the Temple Court, as people strained to see the Jedi on the dais as well as their friends standing just off the edge of it.

Suddenly, twelve brilliant lightsabers hummed to life. A hush fell over the hall. Each of the Jedi Masters first pointed their lightsabers to the sky and slowly lowered them towards the ground. Nomi, Embrik, and Vandar stepped forwards towards the three Padawans before them, who all dropped down on one knee.

"We are all Jedi. The Force speaks through us," Nomi recited, her voice unnaturally amplified, "Through our actions, the Force proclaims itself and what is real. Today we are here to acknowledge what the Force has proclaimed." She shifted her gaze across the three of them and continued, "Evrue Pell, Jolee Bindo, Bastila Shan—"

At that moment, Nomi, Embrik, and Vandar sliced their lightsabers over each of their charge's right shoulder. Ev's tiny padawan braid dropped to the ground beside her. It had hardly been growing for five months. Bastila's, which usually was tucked up into a pigtail, also flitted onto the tailed floor. Jolee had long since had enough hair to braid, so Nomi's saber blade merely hovered over his right shoulder. In unison, the three masters transferred their lightsaber blades from the right to the left shoulders.

Nomi finished, "By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, I dub thee, Jedi Knights of the Republic." Cheers and applause erupted. Though out of place in such a ceremony, Nomi waited for them to die down before she continued with grace, "Take up your lightsabers, Evrue Pell, Jolee Bindo, and Bastila Shan, Jedi Knights. And may the Force be with you."

Purple, green, and yellow erupted from Ev, Jolee, and Bastila's hands as the stood. Their lightsaber salute was met by all twelve members of the council, as well as Juhani who watched proudly from outside the circle.

Again the crowds cheered uproariously.

_Over the din, Jolee tilted his head towards his two companions and commented, "How do you like being famous?"_

14


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2- The Face of Heroes

While the victory parade down the streets of Coruscant had seemed extravagant, the after party made it look as shabby as a Jawa's hem. The Republic Senate Building's largest and grandest banquet hall had been set aside for the evening. From the polished floors to the gently vaulted ceiling three stories above, the room was tailed in rich marbles of blacks, golds, and blues. Where the glittering chandeliers above left gaps in the lighting, delicate, flower-like lamps wrought of bright brass and smoked glass dotted the walls.

Large arching doorways, hung with brocade curtains, opened at regular intervals, while matching arched windows opened to the Coruscant skyline on the opposite wall. The room curved slightly with the contour of the senate building. It was probably at least half a kilometer long.

The banquet hall was bustling with everyone who was someone in the Galactic Republic. Hundreds of richly dressed politicians, business leaders, scholars, and other elite filled the room, like a flock of elegant—at times ridiculous—tropical birds. More than a few military officers in sharp lines of muted greens and reds mingled with the crowd, as well as a handful of even more dully dressed Jedi, almost standing out in their simple browns and creams.

Seeing Vrook Lamar in his customary crimson, leaning against a doorway and watching the crowd mingle along the expansive buffet table with his arms crossed in either boredom or disprovable, an amused smirk crossed Ev's face. At least she wasn't the only one trapped her that thought it was all a little too much.

"What is it?" Carth asked at her elbow. Someone had even convinced him to forgo his favorite Telosian orange jacket and dress like the Republic Naval officer he was.

"What?" Ev asked, startled out of her daze.

"You think something's funny," Carth observed playfully, "I saw that look on your face."

"Oh," Ev chuckled and threw another look in Vrook's direction, offering no other explanation. "How long do you think this is going to last?"

"Bored already?" Carth teased, flashing a smile.

"I don't call three and a half hours 'already'," she retorted, though equally playfully.

"The chancellor's assistant did say that this would wrap up around nine 'o clock," Carth offered.

Ev glanced at the chrono over the nearest door; more of an artistic piece of antiquated craftsmanship than anything. It had rotating hands on a circular dial, marked off with ticks for each hour. She had to study it for a moment before she remembered how to read the time. "That gives us another twenty minutes," Ev observed, "If the chancellor makes good on his promise."

Carth grasped her hand and squeezed it. She smiled back at him. For a few brief minute, they had managed to evade the admirations and tedious conversations of the crowd around them. Every last person in attendance seemed determined to exchange handshakes and a few words with the heroes. Despite her annoyance, Ev held up to it fairly well. Mission enthusiastically drank in all the attention, while Jolee and Kionee did their best to disappear. The others fared somewhere in between. Ev and Carth had lost the rest of their crew to the crowd long ago.

"Ah, here you are," a graying, though upright looking man approached through the crowd with a small plate of orderves in one hand. He had steely gray eyes and a short scar at the edge of his left eye. Although Carth had never met the man before, he recognized him immediately.

"Your honor," Carth made a curt bow.

The man laughed and reached out his hand to firmly hake it with Carth, then Ev. "None of that Lieutenant Onasi," he said warmly, "You're just as important as I am now."

"I'm honored," Carth still said, in awed politeness, then turned to Ev. "Ev, this is Jerol Onasi, Acting High Governor of Telos."

"'Acting' because I've outstayed my term, and it's still rather impossible to poll the scattered Telosians for the next election—or even campaign, for that matter," he said jovially, but there was pain behind his fierce gray eyes.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, High Governor Onasi," Ev replied, then glanced curiously between Carth and Jerol.

Carth caught her meaning immediately. "No relation," Carth clarified, "Onasi was a very common name on Telos."

The High Governor of Telos chuckled again. "Carth Onasi," he started again, "It is good for us, and for me, to see a fellow Telosian rise out of the ashes and fight so valiantly against the Sith who took everything away from us. It gives survivors like myself hope."

"I couldn't rest until the Sith were wiped from the galaxy for good, after what they did," Carth admitted. Ev was surprised by the lack of bitterness in his voice. Only sadness filled its place.

"Then I suppose you will not have rest yet," Jerol observed, "I hear there are still Sith strongholds out there, but now that Malak and his factory are gone..." he trailed off, then refocused on Ev, "You really are Revan then? It's not some piece of Republic war morale propaganda?"

Ev nodded, then shrugged. It was a question she had gotten at least three hundred times that evening. "In a matter of speaking," she replied. There was little else she could say.

"I see," Jerol nodded.

"Do you think, " Carth suddenly asked with eager nervousness, "that Telos can be rebuilt?"

The tall politician put a hand on Carth's shoulder. "I want to believe it can, " he replied quietly, "Most Telosians lost everything in that bombardment. We have neither the resources or the money to rebuild, as such a people. We are war refugees. Other planets have been too absorbed in their own defenses and war-time struggles to offer aid, and the Republic Senate has tied up nearly everything in this war. Now that Darth Malak is gone and Darth Revan is on our side," he made a significant look at Ev, "There is hope that the Republic can divert some of its resources to aid war-torn worlds like ours."

"You don't sound optimistic, " Ev observed.

"My wife also died in the attack," he said, and seeing Carth's surprised expression, he added, "I read your bio, Carth. Since I lost her, I vowed that, for her sake, I would do everything I could to rebuild the world she loved. So I remain here on Coruscant, petitioning the senate for aid until that day comes."

"High Governor Onasi," a bookish woman wove through the crowd towards them. Both Jerol and Carth looked up reflexively. "There is someone who wants to meet with you," the woman continued as she reached them, "Regarding the pending Manaan Agreement."

"Excuse me," Jerol said, bowing to them, "I wish you both the best." He slipped away after his aide.

Ev scanned the crowd and looked up at the antique chrono again. "Then minutes," she murmured. Carth didn't hear her. "At least the people are starting to thin out." Over the tops of the crowd she noticed Kionee and some other remarkably similar looking humans at the end of the banquet hall. "Hey," Ev said, gesturing with a sideways nod of her head, "I see a bunch of unnaturally tall, blond Nubians. Let's go meet them."

"Kionee's family," Carth smiled, then followed after Ev, who was already snaking through the throngs of people.

Approaching the far wall, Kionee spotted them before either Carth or Ev could offer a greeting. She called, "Ev! Carth! Come and meet my family!" She waved animatedly for them to come closer.

Carth and Ev suddenly found themselves the shortest people present, and Kionee was by no means the tallest member of her family. A man with bright eyes, a receding hairline, and a well-kept beard immediately stepped forward and shook Ev's hand. "Gad Rinnh, Kionee's dad," he said with the same ease and formality as he might introduce himself as the CEO of Rinnh Imports. He shook Carth's hand firmly, then cracked a smile. "Thanks for taking care of my little girl for me," he said, throwing an arm around Kionee's shoulders in a half-hug. She blushed.

"Her level-headedness as a pilot saved our lives in the Battle of the Star Forge. We wouldn't have gotten aboard the station without her," Carth replied seriously, "She did her part in keeping us alive too."

Kionee was released from her dad's hold to be slapped congratulatorily on the back by the shorter of her two brothers. "You didn't tell us about that, Kionee," he chided eagerly.

"Well, it wasn't really—" Kionee started, staring at the floor and shuffling her feet.

Ev stepped in, "Would you introduce us to the rest of your family?"

"Right," Kionee brightened up, "You already met my dad. This here is my other brother Cash and his fiance Laurel." She gestured to her shorter brother and to the brunette woman hanging behind him. Laurel wore and elegant gown of muted gold colored silk. She was dressed far better than any of her future in-laws. Until Kionee pointed her out, Ev had assumed that she was only a casual observer and not a part of their group at all.

"Nice to meet you both," Cash said warmly. Laurel only smiled.

"And this is my older sister Roshind," Kionee continued. Like Kionee, her sister wore pants and a simple button-up shirt. Roshind was far leaner and more streamlined than her ungainly younger—though taller—sister. Ev could tell by the fire in her eyes and her stance, even in a banquet hall, that she was a fighter.

Roshind smiled slyly and shook both Ev and Carth's hands. "Thanks for looking after Kionee," she said, "She can be a heap of trouble sometimes."

"Hey!" Kionee protested.

Roshind's smile broadened, "You know what I'm talking about Kinnee."

Kionee only pouted for a moment before directing them towards the last of her siblings. He was a huge Wookiee of a man; burly, with tousled blond hair and a barely contained goatee.

"This is my big brother Everel," she introduced him, "He runs the headquarters back on Nubia. And this is his wife Kreya." The woman at his side was smaller than nay of the Rinnhs, but just as blond. Everel nodded in greeting, "Good to meet you."

"You must be proud of your daughter," Carth started, now that they all had been introduced.

Gad clapped Kionee on the shoulder and she staggered forward. "She has always been up to noble mischief," he said warmly, "As much as I hate it, I'm not too surprised to find her wrapped up in all this. A Cross of Glory, though."

"I don't understand why you keep just working for Dad, while you want to do so much more," Roshind chided her sister.

"Roshind, you know I'm happy with..." Kionee protested, looking down at her feet again.

"The Republic Navy could always use you, if you wanted to enlist," Carth offered warmly.

"No, I couldn't," Kionee protested, "But thanks."

"Shooting at people isn't your style, is it?" Ev observed.

Kionee smiled back at her.

"I'll let you know if I find something more up your alley, then," Carth said.

"Oh, you don't have to," Kionee deflected.

"Come on, Kionee," Everel urged, "Don't turn down an offer like that from a well-connected gentleman like Mister Onasi here."

Ev saw Zaalbar coming well before Mission burst through the crowd, but she knew the young Twi'lek couldn't be far behind.

"I like this thing," Mission joined their circle, fingering the metal pinned to the breast of her striped silk vest. Her entire outfit had been purchased courtesy of the Chancellor's office. "I never seen any big-wigs respect me and Big Z like this before. And now they've got nothing but good to say about us and Taris."

"It's amazing what can be forgotten in the face of a tragedy," Gad observed, "The galaxy will forever remember a beautiful Taris."

"And forget all that bigotry," Roshind added.

"Everyone wanted to meet Zaalbar," Mission continued, unaware that she had just co-opted a conversation, "No one had ever seen a Wookiee before."

"Or heard of Kashyyyk," Zaalbar rumbled.

"Even the head of Czerka pretended he'd never heard of a Wookiee before," Mission laughed.

"Ah, he does like to graciously ignore many issues," Gad paused, as if weighing whether or not to continue, "Like sentient-rights."

A mellow chime sounded three times through the hall. With each chime, the hum of conversation grew quieter until there was little noise above a low murmur.

"The Supreme Chancellor thanks you all for attending this evening," a female voice was projected through the hall, "Unfortunately, it is time for this celebration to come to a close. May you have safe travels to your lodgings and a good night."

At that signal, the dignitaries all, reluctantly, began to filter through the grand, arched doorways. Many tired to catch one last look at or exchange a few final words with the heroes of the day. Eve, and all the others, bore it as politely as they could.

Among the last guests lingering were the Rinnhs. As the hall emptied, Canderous, Juhani, and Jolee reappeared at their circle.

"Well," Gad prompted.

Kionee turned to the others and started tentatively, "I'm going to go with my family tonight. Dad's got a spare bed for me at his flat downtown."

Ev smiled, "Have fun with your family then. Especially since you are all usually scattered across the galaxy."

"We'll see you tomorrow morning before we leave for the tour, then," Mission said in farewell.

"Actually," Kionee stared at her feet once again, "I was thinking, I've really been away from stuff for a long time already. Parading around Coruscant was enough for me. I was going to go back to my life and duck out of the parades if they'll let me." From the looks on the Rinnhs' faces, she had already discussed this with them, and they agreed.

"I'm sure they will understand," Juhani said.

"We should probably get going," Kionee's oldest brother, Everel, suggested, "Before they graciously kick us out." His wife suppressed a grin.

"I guess I won't be seeing you guys again for a while," Kionee began, "Thanks for everything and for keeping me around. It was fun."

"I'm sure this won't be the last we see of you," Ev said, "You have a way of getting around the galaxy."

Kionee let out a small laugh.

"And I'll keep my eyes open for any jobs you might like," Carth promised again and shook her hand.

"You don't have to," she protested all the same.

"Take care of yourself, kid," Canderous said. There was respect behind his voice.

"Kionee, promise me you won't drop off the edge of the galaxy," Mission rushed forwards towards her, "Give me a buzz sometimes?"

This time, Kionee's smile was genuine. "Of course," she promised, "And you can hail me on the _Viridian_ any time."

"Assuming you're not in hyperspace," Cash chided.

"Thank you for your flying and your company, Kionee Rinnh," Zaalbar rumbled. Although she didn't understand him, she still smiled back before Ev got a chance to translate.

"You'll do good, kid," Jolee assured her.

"May the Force be with you, Kionee, in all that you do," Juhani said.

"May the Force be with you," Bastila echoed.

Everyone exchanged last goodbyes and all the Rinnhs hurried from the hall with ushers at their heels.

Except for the droids clearing up the buffet tables and the mess left over from the party, only their little group remained.

"They sure do know how to crash a party in a hurry," Jolee observed humorously.

"I'm surprised they cut things off so early," Canderous observed.

"I'm glad," Bastila asserted, massaging her temples, "I've had enough of politely explaining to politicians that Jedi do not involve themselves with politics, and that I cannot support whatever campaign it is that they need a grinning mascot for."

"But you'd make such a nice poster girl with that lovely smile of yours," Jolee teased.

Bastila scowled. "Anyway," she continued, "This is all very good for morale and such, but it is so very frivolous. The war isn't over yet, and it's about time we return to our lives as ordinary Jedi."

"I doubt we will ever be treated as ordinary anymore," Juhani said quietly.

"I'm ready to get out of the Republic's spotlight," Canderous grumbled, "It's bad publicity for a Mandalorian."

"But it is publicity," Ev pointed out, "Which may come in handy later, you'll find."

"So you say. Kionee made a slip pretty easily," Canderous grumbled, "The victory tour committee won't be too happy about that."

"You wish you had her excuse too, hm?" Jolee baited, but Canderous held his peace.

"I think she felt uncomfortable with all the attention," Juhani observed, "As if she didn't deserve it."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Carth exclaimed, "Without her, we wouldn't have made it to the Star Forge."

"Perhaps true," Juhani started.

"Of course it's true," Carth interjected.

"But," the Cathar Jedi continued, "She still cannot see herself as a hero. I sense she felt only that she did only what she needed to do at the moment, repaying a debt."

"Thought she claimed no life-debt, I understand her feelings well," Zaalbar rumbled, and Ev translated for the benefit of the others, "This crew saved her life, twice."

"We sprung her from the detention cells on the _Leviathan_, then sheltered her from the Sith when we fled from Korriban," Ev nodded thoughtfully, "She must still think she owes us one, even now."

"That's crazy," Mission complained, "She's just—" Mission dropped off as she saw an all-too-familiar sandy-white Bothan woman approaching: assistant to the Supreme Chancellor, Essra Imlium.

"Well, heroes of the Republic," she began brightly, "I hope you enjoyed your evening."

A polite, yet halfhearted chorus of "Yes we did," "Great!" and "It was wonderful," drowned out Jolee's mumbled complaint of, "Too noisy."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it," Essra replied succinctly. Already, as if out of thin air, she held a wide datapad and tapped at it thoughtfully. "Now, let's get down to business. We have numerous bids for your next stop on the victory tour. Corellia being the loudest voice, though, Alderaan filed their petition first. So, as to avoid some political tangles, Chancellor Cressa thought it prudent that we let the heroes themselves chose the next site. No one can refuse you that right. Perhaps we could next visit one of your home planets. Lieutenant Onasi, I'm sorry that it slipped my mind, but you said you were from...?"

"Telos," Carth answered, just a little tensely, "You won't want to bring your parade there."

"Ah, no, we wouldn't. My apologies, " Essra replied, flustered. "Then Mister Canderous Ordo, where—ah—"

Canderous chuckled. He seemed to enjoy just how much he intimidated all the Coruscanti politicians. None seemed to know what to do with him.

"Never mind," Essra murmured, her fur rippling agitatedly. "Now, I do remember that you, Kionee Rinnh, are from Nubia," she started again and glanced around the group, realizing for the first time that Kionee was missing, "Where did Miss Rinnh go?"

"She decided to bow out of the rest of the tour and return to her day job," Ev explained.

"Well," Essra did very poorly at hiding her irritation for someone as immersed in politics as she was, "I guess I will have to take Nubia off the list then. They hadn't even requested to be part of the tour anyway. Mission Vao, I have not been able to find any data on your home planet. Perhaps you would like to visit the planet of your people, Ryloth?"

"Never been to Ryloth in my life," Mission replied flippantly.

"Then where were you born?" Essra asked.

"No idea," Mission shrugged, "But that doesn't matter. Taris was my home. It's where I grew up."

"I see," Essra pursed her wide lips, "Mister Zaalbar, I hope you understand, but we cannot bring a full tour to your planet. It is not a member of the Republic and does not have sufficient facilities for docking or housing."

"The Wookiees would not want another invasion of outsiders anyway," Zaalbar rumbled.

"Pardon?" Essra's ears perked up.

"Oh, Big Z just says that the Wookiees wouldn't want a bunch of people to come anyway," Mission informed her.

"I'm glad you are not offended then, Zaalbar," she replied, "That leaves the Jedi. I understand you all left your homes at young age, but perhaps the citizens of your home worlds would appreciate a hero's return after all these years. Where do you consider to be your home, Jolee Bindo?"

"Kashyyyk," Jolee answered curtly, eyes dancing in amusement.

"The Wookiee world?" she asked, expecting the old man to be joking with her.

"That's the one," Jolee replied with a half-smile, "And you already established we can't bring our little party there."

"Right. So, Bastila Shan," she asked, "where are you originally from?"

"Talravin," she answered tersely, "But I have no wish to return there."

"I see," Essra taped the edge of her datapad impatiently, "Then, Revan Roan'evrue Pell—"

Ev winced, "Just Ev, please."

"Where are you from, Ev?" Essra asked again, stressing the nickname.

"That's a very good question," Ev replied enigmatically, eyebrows raised. It did not need to be common knowledge that her redemption was not a voluntary one, and the price she paid for it.

Essra waited for a clearer answer, but when the silence drew out too long, she gathered herself again and focused her attention on Juhani, not hopeful, "Is there a planet in your history that we might visit?"

"I was born on Cathar, which was decimated by the Mandalorians," Juhani answered evenly, "And I was raised on Taris."

"Ah, another for Taris," Essra mumbled, "Then none of you are from planets that could host the tour?" None answered her. "Fine, it's Corellia then. I'll tell them that's what you all decided. At least the Alderaanians won't complain as loudly," she muttered, "Come, the shuttle to your accommodations is waiting."

Mission was practically asleep on her feet by the time they reached their guest rooms in the senate apartments. Even VIP shuttles were at the mercy of traffic and even VIPs themselves were subject to the formal greetings and small-talk with nearly everyone they met in the hangar bay, the lifts, and the halls.

They were finally able to extract themselves from their admirers and Essra when Mission demanded openly of a Sullustan senatorial party, through a wide yawn, "Do we have to talk to the whole galaxy before they'll let us go to bed?"

Bastila and Ev made amends for the tired teenager and excused the whole party. Zaalbar scooped up Mission and carried her the last stretch down the corridor, depositing her in her own room. She only uttered one weary protest. Exchanging only a few short goodnights, everyone slipped into their own room.

Ev, however, lingered outside of Carth's open doorway.

"Goodnight beautiful," Carth murmured softly and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Is that some Telosian Red I see you have there?" Ev asked slyly, craning her neck to see over his shoulder into the room.

"What? I'd think you would be tired of people fawning over you by now and wanting the privacy of your own bed," Carth teased.

"Oh, I don't know about that," her eyes brightened and she closed the space between them, "It depends on the source. And besides, HK is going to be awful company, after we didn't let him come to the party. But, it couldn't be helped. You know his party manners."

Carth stifled a laugh and stepped away from the doorway. "Well, come on in then," he said, "It wouldn't be right for me to drink all of it myself. Though, do Jedi drink?"

Ev raised an eyebrow and shot him a mischievous grin as he latched the door. "What are you asking me for?"

"Fine! Who am I to question the 'Prodigal Knight'?" Carth teased. He searched for two glasses and a corkscrew.

"Oh please!" Ev shot back.

Carth chuckled and poured out the wine, smiling to himself. He handed one to Ev, then glanced around the room. Each of them had been given a luxurious suite of rooms. The narrow reception room was lined with couches and low tables while two doors on the left wall led to an unnecessarily extravagant refresher and an equally lavish bedroom. The walls of each were decorated with tasteful but benign art; probably Alderaanian. At the far end of the reception room, a door opened out onto a sheltered, private balcony. Without saying a word, Carth ushered Ev towards it.

Outside, the Coruscant nightlife was as busy and neon as ever, but the senate apartments were set apart from the worst of it. Even still, a few fireworks flared and sparked not far away.

Ev sipped at her wine. "This is good," she mused.

"I don't know where they found a good Telosian vintage like this," Carth agreed.

"Thoughtful of them," Ev said, and they both fell back into silence. Ev leaned her head against his shoulder and Carth slid his arm around her waist, hand resting comfortably on her hip.

"What do you make of all this?" Ev broke the silence at last.

"Of the blissful extravagance of Coruscant?" Carth asked, "Or the blissful confidence of it's populace in our victory?"

It took Ev a moment to respond, "The second more than the first, but I'd happily listen to your opinion on anything."

"Aren't you accommodating tonight?" Carth observed with a smile.

"Of course I am," she grinned back.

"Well," Carth started, "I'm glad they made the Battle of the Star Forge public knowledge, and I'm glad they're all celebrating. Up until now, it looked like the Sith were winning. The Republic needed a major victory like this one, but it's not the end of the war, and I'm not sure how many people deep in the core worlds realize that."

"The Jedi do," Ev said.

"And so does the Republic military," Carth agreed, "But I worry about the civilians' attitude of finality to the victory at the Star Forge."

"On one hand, it can't hurt for the general populace to relax, thinking that the war is pretty much over," Ev agreed, "They can focus on rebuilding rather than trenching in, in fear of attack." She caught herself, "Though, they shouldn't let their guard down to the Sith that are still out there."

"That, and if the civilians start thinking that the war is finished," Carth argued gravely, "We may have trouble keeping the funding we need to actually finish this war."

"That's what I was thinking," Ev admitted, leaning more heavily against Carth's shoulder, "Though, at least the Jedi don't have to be accountable for our funding, battle for battle, the way you military buffs do."

A silence fell between them again. Speeders and transports whizzed past. There was music somewhere in the distance.

Ev put down her empty wine glass on the wide railing beside her. "They're talking about sending us back to the front already," Ev admitted, staring out into the darkness, "As soon as the victory tour is over." She sighed.

"To where?" Carth asked.

"The Glythe System, if they haven't changed their minds," Ev replied. Her voice had lost all luster. "What about you, Admiral?"

"My superiors haven't been specific yet," Carth admitted, "They won't promote me officially or give orders until we're done with this tour, but I suspect I'll be replacing Admiral Thonsen, who died in action against the Sith in the Luire System."

Ev sighed again. Carth held her more tightly against his side.

"The Jedi won't like this, will they?" Carth sighed too.

"My discussing the war with a naval officer over a glass of wine?" Ev asked, feigning cluelessness.

"I meant—" Carth started.

"I know of several Jedi masters who have been known to out-drink a certain Corellian commander. I will hardly be in trouble for one glass of wine," she continued.

"Ev, not—"

"Or if you mean divulging my next mission to someone outside the order," she blazed on.

"Ev!"

"They'll get over it," she flirted.

"Ev," Carth spun her around to face him, "Why do you have to be so frustrating?"

She drew closer and put a finger to his lips. Smiling mischievously, she replied, "Someone has to get you going now and then."

The warmth of the breath and her bright eyes was intoxicating. Pressing a hand to the small of her back, Carth drew her against him and kissed her. She reached up and ran her hands through his hair. Finally, they broke apart. Both turned back to the Coruscant skyline and stared blankly out, breathing heavily.

Carth grasped at one of Ev's hands between both of his. "Ev, I love you," he confessed.

Turning to meet his gaze, Ev replied, "I know. And I love you."

"Ev," Carth began, then cleared his throat and dropped down onto one knee. "Will you marry me?" he entreated.

Ev's face flushed with a smile, but she quickly grew serious. "You know what you're getting into?" she asked.

"I know who you are and what that means," he replied, pleadingly.

"But do you?" Ev asked darkly.

"You're Revan, the hero of the Republic, one of the most powerful Jedi," Carth replied, "They will send you all over the galaxy until all the Sith are gone, and probably even then some."

"There's more than just that," Ev looked gravely down at him and put her other hand on top of his. "As Revan, they will send me to the darkest, most dangerous parts of the galaxy, places from which I might never come back," she explained.

"You defeated Malak, you can handle—" Carth argued.

"Carth, every Jedi will meet her end someday, and I'll have my chance at that more often than the average Jedi," Ev interrupted firmly, "And then there's that our marriage would have to be kept secret. The Jedi Council doesn't trust me anyway. They'll be watching me even more closely because of that. We'll have to be extra careful."

"Don't trust you? You just proved your loyalty and dedication on the Star Forge," Carth protested indignantly.

"There is a darkness in me, Carth, that I cannot entirely repress, that I cannot hide. The Council knows that and they fear it," Ev continued, "I will never be completely free of Darth Revan."

Carth started at his hands on hers. Without looking up, he said quietly, "Ev, I will never understand the Force like you do, or the Jedi, but I do know this; I love you, and I'm willing to go through anything for you to be my wife."

"There's more, Carth," Ev said, almost reluctantly.

Looking up at her, he asked, "What?"

"I don't know," she shrugged her shoulders heavily, "No one knows what is still locked up inside of me. It could me more dangerous for you than to me. I don't want to endanger you unknowingly."

Carth swallowed the lump in his throat. "Whatever comes, I'll love you. And, if need be, I'll always be there to save you from yourself. I'll never go back on that promise," he vowed. Squeezing her hand, he repeated, "Ev, will you marry me?"

For a fleeting moment, there were tears at the corners of her eyes. "Yes," she answered at last. Her sly grin returned to her face, and she admonished, "Now stand up and let me kiss you."

Carth had no trouble obeying. When they pulled apart again, Ev grinned at him and said, "You're going to have to tell Dustil about this. He has his right to refuse his consent."

"Dustil?" Carth's face was a mix of pain, shame, and fatherly love, "You've seen him? How is he?"

"He's at the Jedi Temple now, along with eight or ten other Sith trainees from Korriban, all training to unlearn Sith teachings and become proper Jedi," she replied, "I haven't had much of a chance to talk to him, but he seems to be having a good time and adjusting well."

Carth relaxed. "I wonder when I'll get a chance to see him again," he wondered, "There's so much I'd like to say, so much I want to work out."

"I'll see if I can't find a way," Ev promised.

"Thanks," he squeezed her hand in his.

"And we have to find a quiet little non-Republic system to marry us where neither the Jedi nor the press will get word of it," Ev continued.

"How about Kashyyyk?" Carth suggested.

Ev thought on it for a moment then nodded, "Kashyyyk will do. Thought we'll have to do it quick. Now that Zaalbar is a hero, the galaxy's eyes are on his planet. I wouldn't be surprised if it started making moves to join the Republic very soon."

"You think so?" Carth asked, "It would give them protection from slavers like Czerka."

Ev nodded, "Especially if Zaalbar heads up the effort himself."

"Zaalbar wouldn't..." Carth started, then stared at Ev questioningly.

"Don't give me that look," she said, "Yes, I do plan to give him a push in that direction. Like you said, it would be good for the Wookiees. Zaalbar is intelligent, firm, and cares for the welfare of his people. On top of that, he has seen more of the workings of the galaxy than probably any other Wookiee. The circumstances are right to give it a try, if the Wookiees can be united."

Carth nodded.

Changing subjects abruptly, Ev started again, "I think Bastila should be my maid of honor. Juhani can be a bride's maid, and, well, Mission is too old to be a flower girl. She'll have to be a bride's maid too. We'll have to ask Zaalbar about wedding procedures on Kashyyyk."

"How is it that you know so much about weddings?" Carth asked.

"You know I can't answer questions like that. Where did I learn anything?" Ev shot back playfully. "Now what do you say to Canderous as your best man?"

Carth snorted and Ev laughed.

"I have some good friends from Telos in the navy that would stand up for me," Carth suggested.

"Be careful who you invite beyond our crew," Ev cautioned, "The world can't get out, even as rumors. So, as a backup, how about HK-47?"

Carth lifted her up off the floor, laughing, and kissed her again. He put Ev back down, still shaking with mirth. "You're going to be the death of me," he grinned.

"I hope not," she smile back, caught off-guard by a yawn.

"I love you, Ev," he whispered, as if anything louder would shatter the moment.

She simply smiled back at him, and that was enough.

Ev yawned again and Carth caught himself yawning too.

"Are you or aren't you going to invite me to stay the night?" Ev asked shortly.

Carth's smile broadened into a grin. Offering his arm to her, he replied, "As long as you promise not to get yourself into trouble for this."

"I will slip away before the first light and leave you pining for me," Ev replied mischievously.

"I can handle that," Carth grinned.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3- The Wookiee

The victory tour traveled to the Koros System. After spending one waking day visiting all seven inhabited planets in the system, there was a grand celebration on the glorious capital planet itself: Empress Teta. Thanks to the celeverly-timed arrivals and departures, the events of the day had taken far longer than one standard span from sunset to sunrise. And even after the sun set on Cinnagar, the day was not yet over for the heroes of the Republic. Empress Evenam would not be satisfied without a formal state dinner in honor of her guests.

Night lights glittered through the vaulted windows of the Tetan Imperial Palace as the heroes of the Republic did their best to stay awake on their feet while mingling with members of the royal family, senatorial delegation, and other exalted Tetans.

When her Royal Highness the Empress Evenam had had her full of chatting and announced that she would be turning in for the night, the visiting heroes were only too glad to be escorted down a quiet, private corridor to the shuttle that would take them to their accommodations for the night. The ever-present representative of the Chancellor's office, Essra Imlium, and her Tour and Celebrations Committee would have had them sleeping on their ship, en route to Kaikielius. That is, if it would not been a major breech in formality to deny Empress Evenam's hospitality, so they stayed on Empress Teta.

A woman in the sharply tailored green jacket of a Tetan Special Forces pilot with thick brown hair spilling out from beneath her cap welcomed them with a smile as they entered the hangar. "I wanted to welcome you to Koros, but I'm sure you have heard that plenty enough already," she said with an air of familiarly, "I had to pull all sorts of connections and whisper into several ears to be given the privilege of being your pilot-escort this evening."

Carth, at the front of the line, started at her through bleary eyes. "I'm sorry, but I don't remember your—" he started.

"Oh, you're the woman Kionee introduced us to on Coruscant, marrying her brother," Ev brushed brightly by him. Carth was convinced that Ev's alertness at any hour of the day, no matter how long the day, was some kind of Jedi trick. "Laurel, wasn't it?"

"Well, I'm impressed," Laurel beamed back, "With all the names fired at you in the last two weeks, that you could remember mine."

"Trust me," Ev laughed, "I try to forget most of them. I make an exception for family of friends."

"Well, you all look exhausted," Laurel stepped aside, giving them a clear path to a small shuttle's boarding ramp, "Please come aboard, and I can get you to your lodgings."

The _Starlight Gem_ had the most opulently decorated interior of any ship Carth had ever seen. From the green velvet upholstery, matching shag carpet, and silk damask drapes over the passenger viewports to the gemstone-like buttons on the personal climate control panel at each seat, it spoke of royalty. Chairs and long sofas, accompanied with polished wooden tables, provided enough room for nearly fifteen passengers. Carth whistled appreciatively.

Laurel caught his meaning. "And does it ever have a smooth ride too," she beamed and settled into the pilot's chair. Only a green, silk curtain separated the passenger cabin from the cockpit. Laurel left it open.

Ev slid onto a couch next to Carth while Mission claimed a whole sofa for herself, sprawling out with her head laid on her arms. Bastila, Zaalbar, and Juhani quickly found their seats, but Jolee had to pace the full length of the shuttle before choosing a seat that pleased him.

With a wide grin on his face, he settled back into the velvet cushions. "Now this is how it's done," Jolee nodded satisfactorily, "The rest of the Republic aught to take hospitality lessons from the Tetans."

"Jolee!" Juhani hissed as the shuttle door closed, hoping none of the Tetans had overheard his comment.

Laurel laughed from the cockpit, "Actually, Her Highness would love to know she has your approval, as being better than the rest of the galaxy at what she does. Though, it is a fact she takes for granted already."

"In that case," Ev said smiling, "Pass along our appreciation."

"Will do," Laurel nodded as she readied the ship's ignition. "To the summer palace then."

The hardly heard or felt the shuttle lift off. Soon enough, it was soaring over Cinnagar towards the coast.

"She wasn't kidding about the smooth ride," Carth marveled.

"I suppose you're itching to be back behind the controls of a zippy little fighter yourself," Ev observed.

"A break is nice, now and then," Carth shrugged, "I'm too tired today anyway to think about piloting anything."

"Say," Ev started, "Just how did you get permission to fly us on this ship, Laurel."

"I'm not a fruit and veggie-pilot like all of my future in-laws," Laurel answered, deftly piloting the ship, "if that's what you're suggesting. Usually, I am Senator Liz Yerrn's personal escort-pilot. I fly her two and from Coruscant, and wherever else she needs to go, and act as a sort of low-profile bodyguard."

"I did hear someone mention that Senator Yerrn is the King's sister," Bastila noted.

"Exactly right," Laurel nodded, "So I asked very nicely that, if I wasn't needed this evening, could I fly you all to your lodgings, as my future sister-in-law was one among your company."

"It is nice to see a familiar face," Juhani said, "Thank you for volunteering. The strangers are all beginning to blend together."

"Last time I saw you all, there was an eighth in your company," Laurel observed.

"Right," Ev remembered, "Canderous smuggled himself out of Corellia, our first stop on the tour, as quietly as he could. We're not really sure where he went off to."

"This all must have been strange for a Mandalorian,"Laurel nodded, "How many systems have you visited in the last two weeks?"

"Twelve," Jolee answered dryly.

This time it was Laurel's turn to whistle appreciatively. "No wonder you all look so tired. Well, aside from the pace, how are you enjoying the tour?" she asked.

"The food's been good," Mission mumbled into her arms.

"We have seen how the wealthy and elite of the galaxy live," Juhani said, but there was no awe in her voice, "And have lived a bit of it ourselves."

Bastila was in agreement, "I will forever appreciate the life of a Jedi, so free of all these politics."

"So you'd rather be chasing down Sith Lords than being fed like a queen?" Ev teased.

"I didn't say that," Bastila snapped tiredly.

Ev grinned at her, "I know."

Bastila gave her a smile smile back.

"I could leave behind all the palaces of the galaxy just to be among the holy wroshyr again," Zaalbar rumbled.

"You and me both," Jolee nodded.

"From what's been said said about your planet, Kashyyyk," Laurel started, "I'd love to see the Wookiee trees myself too. For all the places I've been with the senator, I've never seen any kind of awesome flora like that."

"You understand Shyriiwook?" Ev asked suddenly.

Laurel smiled and tapped at her right ear. "Ear-bud translator," she replied, "It's a tool of the trade for senators, so I figured I should have one too. I'm amazed more people don't have them. They're really quite affordable, and not too uncomfortable, once you get used to having one in."

"If everyone could get one, no one would bother to have the decency to learn to speak or even understand the language of where they were living," Jolee rattled, "It makes an outsider seem like he doesn't give a whiff about his host people."

"I suppose you're referring to Czerka Corporation on Kashyyyk?" Ev observed.

"Hrumph!" was Jolee's only answer.

"Well, I honestly would love a chance to visit Kashyyyk myself," Laurel said, "If either of you want a lift back there, I could easily arrange for a few days off to take you myself."

"Kashyyyk..." Zaalbar rumbled wistfully.

"That'd be nice," Mission mumbled her assent, curled up on the couch, "Big Z'd like that."

Ev's rooms in the Tetan Summer Palace opened onto a broad balcony with a spectacular view of the ocean. Reflections of Empress Teta's three nearly-full moons glittered on the gently dancing waves below. Ev leaned lightly on the railing taking it all in, yet remembering nothing.

She sighed and shook her head. "This isn't where I should be right now," she murmured and turned away from the sea. The night air was warm and humid around her. Despite the exhaustions of the day, Ev could not bring herself to sleep. Hundreds of people remind her that she was Revan, both destroyer and savior, every day of the tour. She wished, knowing it was futile, that she could be just Ev, nothing more.

A presence in the Force caught her attention at the edge of her mind. Someone—Zaalbar, stood at her door. Before he could work up the courage to disturb her, Ev Pulled the suite's door open with a flick of her hand.

Zaalbar hid his surprise relatively well. "May I enter, Ev Pell?" he rumbled, "I wish to speak with you."

"Yes, please come in," Ev replied and strolled through the open balcony doors and into the room towards him.

Ducking, Zaalbar stepped inside and the door closed behind him as Ev gave it a gentle Push through the Force.

Ev sank into one of the overstuffed armchairs near the door. "Do you want to sit down?" she invited, gesturing to the loveseat across the caff table from her.

Zaalbar sat stiffly down on the floral linen cushions.

"Something's bothering you," Ev observed of the tense Wookiee sitting across from her.

"I was speaking with Laurel Grergen," Zaalbar started in a low rumble, "And she said that she is free to return me to Kashyyyk, if I can go."

Ev nodded, "I know you want to go back."

Zaalbar reached back over his shoulder and drew the Blade of Bacca then rested it in both is hands across his lap. He stared reverently down at it for a moment before replying, "This blade reminds me of my people and of my father. My father did me a great honor in giving me this blade. It has served you well. But in giving it to me, I know he expected me to bring it back one day, and rule as the chieftain of our tribe." He paused, but Ev did not interrupt. She sensed he had more to say. Still looking down at the vibroblade, he finally admitted, "But I am torn between two vows: a vow to my people that I owe through birth, and a vow to you. I owe you my life."

Ev leaned back and nodded. "I expected as much," she said. "Do you remember what I said to you on Coruscant, the day we were given our awards?" She did not wait for him to reply, but supplied it herself, "I told you that you would be best serving out your debt to me by rebuilding the lives of your people on Kashyyyk."

"You say this only to give me what I want," Zaalbar accused, finally meeting her eyes, "You do not understand the gravity of the debt I owe you."

"No, I do," Ev replied seriously, "And I'm asking you to do what I want. Lucky here, that our wants are the same. Zaalbar, when I was with your people and I saw how Czerka treated them, it made me as mad as a Wookiee." She cracked a sly smile as Zaalbar wuffed an appreciative laugh. "I care about what happens to Kashyyyk, and right now, your planet is at a critical point."

"What do you mean?" Zaalbar asked.

"Kashyyyk has so much potential for change, positive change, right now," Ev explained. "The Republic's eye is on your planet right now. In fact, it's on you too. Czerka wouldn't dare move back in for that reason, and for the beating they got at the hands of your people."

Zaalbar growled warmly.

"Zaalbar, you, as a hero of the Republic, could lead your planet into the Republic," Ev pointed out.

"But I am just another Wookiee, once exiled as a madclaw," Zaalbar protested.

"And the future chieftain of Rwookrrorro," Ev pointed out, "You have charisma and leadership, Zaalbar. That you showed in our travels and when you took back your village from the slavers. Your people respect you now, look up to you. On top of that, thanks to your Cross of Glory, so does the rest of the galaxy. You are poised to make a difference, if you chose to."

"What do you want me to do?" Zaalbar asked.

"Oh, there you go again," Ev threw her hands up, "I want you to think for yourself. Think: would this be good for your people? To enter as a full member of the Galactic Republic?"

Zaalbar scratched the fur on his head thoughtfully. "The Republic does not allow slavery. There is trade and protection," he thought out loud. "All of these could benefit my people."

"Then there are some things you need to do before the Republic can accept you," Ev nodded approvingly. "First, you must have some sort of centralized government that can represent and control, to an extent, the whole planet. Second, since so much in the Republic revolves around trade, you should identify products of value that you can offer into trade. This could be raw materials, foods, or technology. I know you Wookiees have a knack with gadgets. And, thirdly, your government must comply with the Galactic Constitution and all of its precepts."

"That is a lot to ask," Zaalbar said warily, but Ev sensed hesitant approval.

"I'm not ordering you to do this," Ev replied, "I'm asking you to consider it, to talk it over with other Wookiees you trust. Ultimately, it's about what is best for your people, and only your people can decide that."

"You want me to talk to my people about this," Zaalbar repeated, as if unsure, "And if it is what they want, do it."

Ev nodded. "And that would serve out the debt you owe me," she said, "I'm sorry if this has put you in a funny position."

"There is nothing to be sorry for," Zaalbar said, standing up. He sheathed the Blade of Bacca on his back again. "Thank you, Ev Pell."

Ev stood as well. "It has been great traveling with you, Zaalbar," she said, "I wish you all the best."

"Laurel Grergen said she can take me tonight, so I will be going now," Zaalbar said.

"Mission would hate for you to go without telling her," Ev pointed out seriously.

Zaalbar fumbled at his belt. "She said she approved of me going back while we were on our way over here," he mumbled.

"I doubt she was aware that was what she was mumbling," Ev pointed out, "She was half-asleep."

"I do not want her think I want her coming with me. She enjoys this tour so much, she should see it through to the end," Zaalbar added.

"And you hate saying goodbyes," Ev assessed, "I know how you feel. I do too."

Zaalbar wavered, still standing across from her silently.

"Fine then, go," Ev said with a smile, "Rejoin your people and serve them. I'll make it up to Mission for you."

"Thank you again, Ev Pell," Zaalbar said, "I will forever be in your debt."

Ev cracked a smile and saw him to the door. "Take care of yourself," she said as she opened the door for him, this time with her hand on the handle, "And may the Force be with you."

"I know it will be with you," Zaalbar replied, then turned down the hall, taking the first steps back towards his home.

Ev turned back to her room and too her bed. With that bit of hope for the future calming her inside, she was at last able to sleep.

Jolee, Juhani, Carth, Ev, Bastila, and Mission, along with their droids, sat in a conference room aboard the _Brilliant_ that had been converted to a temporary lounge for the duration of the victory tour. The room was decked out with comfortable but utilitarian couches and chairs as well as a number of collapse-able plasteel tables. A buzz at the comm system near the door was all that was needed to speed a luckless—or perhaps lucky—ensign in to wait on their needs. It was, however, a privilege that none of them liked to make use of if they could help it. That is, except maybe Jolee and Mission.

"I can't believe we're already heading back to Coruscant," Mission breathed, sprawled out across a large armchair.

"I would hardly call three weeks 'already', Mission," Bastila commented, from her own chair. "I am looking forward to returning to the Jedi temple after all of this big-to-do they have been making around us."

"I could use some peace and quiet myself," Jolee agreed, sitting next to her.

"But I still can't believe all the places we've seen," Mission blurted, then counted on her fingers, "Coruscant, Corellia, Drall, Talus, Tralus, Selonia, Duro, Abregaod-rae, Humdarine, Balmorra, Alderaan, Caamas, Arkania, Chandrilla, Ralltiir, Trantor, all the planets in the Empress Teta System, Pantolomin, Sullust, Bothawui, Mon Calamari, Toprawa, Bandomeer, and Aargau. I didn't even know some of those places existed before! And we were treated like kings."

"Treated like heroes, I'd say," Carth chuckled. Although he shared a couch with Ev, both did their best to show no untoward affection to one another. There was no telling who could be watching on the security camera feeds.

Mission threw her hands up and slumped back contentedly into her chair, "This was so much fun. I don't want to end."

"Fortunately or unfortunately, it needs to," Juhani said, "We have our duties to get back to."

"Duties? Like what?" Mission asked.

"Us four are at the mercy of the Jedi Council again," Ev explained, cracking a smile, "to send where they want us. Last I heard, we're headed back for the front, to help clean up some of the remaining Sith strongholds."

"All together?" Mission asked, leaning forward curiously.

Juhani nodded, "I hope so."

"At least that is what the Council seemed to be suggesting before we left," Bastila added.

"Query: Will I be permitted to join you in terminating the Sith, master?" HK-47 asked.

T3-M4 tweeted something indignantly.

"Admonition: Of course not," HK-47 replied impatiently, "You would be useless to her, as you are not outfitted with advanced combat protocols."

Ev stifled a laugh, "Of course I'll have you HK. But I will need to get the Jedi Council's permission first. It shouldn't be too hard."

"Statement: You have my thanks, master," HK replied, "I have been deprived of the joys of combat and assassination for too long."

"Blood-thirsty hunk of metal," Jolee grumbled under his breath.

T3-M4 chirped expectantly, swiveling its head towards Ev.

"Right," Ev stared down at the little droid, "I thought you should stay with the _Ebon Hawk_, T3, which is in Carth's hands now. If that's alright with you."

T3 tweeted satisfactorily and retreated into a corner again.

"Well, like these guys, I'm headed back for the front myself, after I'm promoted to captain," Carth explained to Mission, "If I survive the campaign in the Luire System and do a respectable job, they'll put me on track to a promotion to admiral."

"And you'll be getting busier with each promotion," Ev teased, giving him a light push on the shoulder.

"Oh," Mission uttered, sinking back into her chair.

"What are your plans, Mission," Juhani asked.

"I, um," Mission started, "I guess I hadn't thought about it much. I figured I could just stay with you guys,keep traveling, and stuff. I guess that's not going to happen if you're all going back to war though."

"You'll have to find your own way, Mission," Bastila said, "I'm afraid we cannot take you back to the Jedi Temple with us. You would not have a place there."

After a moment of deep thought, Carth suggested, "You've got a knack for computers. I could put in a good word for you if you wanted a job in the Navy Tech Corps."

"There you go again, trying to get jobs for everyone," Ev laughed.

"Thanks," Mission replied thoughtfully, "But I don't think the army is my thing."

"Navy," Carth corrected her reflexively, then added, "Well, know that that's an option for you if you change your mind later on."

Mission sighed dramatically, "I wish Big Z hadn't left all suddenly like that. He would've had some good advice." After a pause, she added indignantly, "He didn't even say goodbye!"

"You know he didn't want you to feel pressured to leave the tour with him," Ev reminded her. "Look at how much you've enjoyed the last week."

"Yeah, but now he's gone anyway," Mission mumbled, "After all this time with him, I don't know what to do without Zaalbar."

"Then why don't you go visit him?" Jolee suggested gruffly, "That seems like the obvious solution—or the best way to put off making a decision anyway."

Mission straightened up and her eyes brightened. "That's a great idea!" she exclaimed. "Do you think he'd mind?"

"Mind?" Ev laughed, "I think he'd love it. He's your best friend, after all."

"So, once we get back to Coruscant," Mission turned on Ev, "Can you take me back to Kashyyyk?"

Ev smiled, "I'm sure I can weasel out of my Jedi duties for a couple more days." She turned to Carth, "Carth, can I borrow the _Hawk_?"

"It's as much mine as it is yours," Carth replied, taken aback by her question.

"Carth," she reminded him seriously.

"Yes, you can borrow it," Carth replied, relaxing.

"Thanks," she said, then leaned over and whispered into his ear, "And while I'm on Kashyyyk, I'll see what kind of arrangements can be made for our wedding."

"You do that," he said softly and smiled back at her.

"Now Mission, do you have any business to take care of on Coruscant, or shall we depart immediately after arrival?" Ev posed to her.

"I don't have nothing to do there," Mission said with a shrug. "Let's head right out."

"Bastila," Ev started, "Can you make apologies for me to the Council for this?"

"They won't like it," Bastila cautioned.

"Of course they won't," Ev replied shortly, "What do they like that I do?"

Bastila cracked a smile, "I will tell them that you are seeing off Mission, another recipient of the Cross of Glory."

"Thanks," Ev smiled back at her. "I appreciate it. You're much better at chatting with all those Jedi Masters than I am."

"I'm going to see Zaalbar!" Mission exclaimed, clenching her fists excitedly.

Mission and Ev stepped off the _Ebon Hawk _onto the landing platform in the old Czerka compound. The sun was setting over the humid forest; the great wroshyr trees casting long shadows across the platforms. Two Wookiees stood ready to greet them, bowcasters leveled and trained on the two outsiders.

"Who are you?" a silver-brown Wookiee growled tersely. He was the taller, and probably older, of the two.

"Speak up," the second Wookiee, who had a much darker brown coat, yowled impatiently.

"Woah! What's with all the hostility? We're only here to see Big Z," Mission protested flippantly, taking a few steps closer. The silvering Wookiee cocked his weapon threateningly.

"Mission," Ev said cautionarily and put a hand on her shoulder. She addressed the two Wookiee guards, "My name is Ev Pell, and this is Mission Vao. We are here to see Zaalbar of Rwookrrorro. We flew with him and fought with him during the wars."

"Ah, Ev Pell," the taller Wookiee lowered his bowcaster. The other followed suit more hesitantly. "Mission Vao. We have heard of your deeds both here against the slavers and in space, against the Sith. You will always be welcome here."

"Forgive us for our cold greeting," the younger Wookiee rushed to say, "We did not know it was you. Chieftain Freyyr has said that no outsiders be allowed to walk freely among the trees until they have proven their good intent. We want no more slavers here."

"And we respect you for that," Ev nodded. "Now, would you be so kind as to allow us to travel to Rwookrrorro to visit our friend?"

"Lorrlo," the older Wookiee turned to his companion, "Take them to the village."

"Of course," the young Wookiee, Lorrlo, agreed.

"I mean no insult by this," the older Wookiee explained, "We all know that you are great warriors and can easily defeat the kinrath that stalk our boardwalks, but it would look very bad if we did not escort heroes such as you."

"And, unescorted, we might appear to be spies for the slavers," Ev observed.

"You are as wise as you are mighty, Ev Pell," the silver-brown Wookiee commended.

Ev merely nodded, brushing aside the compliment.

"So how's Zaalbar?" Mission asked eagerly.

"I will take you to him now," Lorrlo replied, "And you will see for yourself. You will see that he has gathered many other great chieftains in Rwookrrorro. I have not seen such a gathering before in my life."

A sly smile spread across Ev's face. "Then we shall look forward to meeting them as well," she said.

Lorrlo led them safely across the maze of boardwalks that connected the small spaceport to the center of Rwookrrorro village, with only a few kinrath to hinder them. At the village's gate, Lorrlo proudly announced them to the guards, and their names traveled in rumbles and whispers all across the settlement. As Lorrlo continued to lead them towards the great head house at the center of the village, Wookiees regarded them with looks a mix of respect and curiosity. Nearly dark, torches flickered in their metal holders all along the boardwalks that made up the tree-top town.

Finally they reached the door of the head house. "These are friends and fellow warriors of Zaalbar, come to see him," Lorrlo announced to the single guard by the door.

"They are feasting now," the guard said in warning.

Ev sensed a wave of nervousness wash over their escort, but Lorrlo moved beyond it and pushed through the door. Ev and Mission followed after.

Nearly twenty Wookiees were sitting around a long wooden table which held a great banquet, even by Wookiee standards. Every Wookiee possessed the posture and confidence about him that suggested leadership, and every Wookiee's eyes were on them.

"I am sorry for the disturbance," Lorrlo grumbled as confidently as he could, "These are Ev Pell and Mission Vao, here to—"

Suddenly, Zaalbar was standing out of his seat at the far end of the table. "Mission! Ev Pell! Welcome," he roared warmly, "Make room. Get some more chairs."

Almost immediately two more Wookiees appeared out of the shadows hauling wicker chairs, wooden bowls, cups, and other utensils for the meal. The Wookiees shifted down, making room for Ev and Mission near Zaalbar.

"Zaalbar!" Mission exclaimed and rushed down the table towards him. She wrapped him in a waist-high hug. The big Wookiee returned her gesture.

Ev followed more calmly after her and took a seat between Zaalbar and his father.

Releasing Zaalbar, Mission scolded, "I'll never forgive you for leaving without saying goodbye."

"Mission, please," Zaalbar pleaded, "You know I don't like saying goodbyes."

"Okay fine," Mission acquiesced with a smile and plopped down into her wicker seat. Her nose was just level with the high table. Ev fared only slightly better, having difficulty reaching the foot set before her.

Zaalbar rumbled a laugh, then called, "Bring some large cushions for these small people."

A rumble of appreciative laughter flowed around the table.

"Welcome back, Ev Pell," Freyyr said quietly.

"Thank you, Chieftain Freyyr," Ev replied with a smile, "I'm glad to be back."

Finally, when both Ev were seated high enough to be seen by all the other Wookiees gathered there, Zaalbar introduced them, "These are Mission Vao and Ev Pell. You have heard me tell of them in my journeys and have heard my father tell of their part in ridding our world of the Czerka slavers. They will forever have our gratitude."

The other Wookiees rumbled and cheered.

Turning to Ev, Zaalbar explained, "These are some of the greatest chiefs in our region. They have come to discuss the future of our world."

"I had hoped so," Ev said lowly. "You never cease to impress me Zaalbar."

"I was only doing what you asked," Zaalbar rumbled quietly back at her.

"Because you thought it right," she replied, "And see how they respect you?"

Zaalbar turned away, embarrassed.

Just then, Freyyr waved over one of the Wookiees who had been serving the meal. She carried two garlands of dried flowers, nut shells, and carved bone ornaments and handed them to Freyyr. Standing to his full, impressive height. He draped one over Ev's head and the second over Mission's. The young Twi'lek deftly flicked her lekku out of the way so it would rest around her neck. "Ev Pell, Mission Vao," he roared proudly, "You have the honor and bravery of a Wookiee. As warriors returning victorious from the war, we welcome you as ones of our tribe."

Again the other Wookiees roared and warbled their cheers.

"Wow, thanks," Mission beamed.

"Thank you for this, Freyyr," Ev said as he sat down again, fingering one of the carved fragments of bone that hung around her neck. "In return, I have something for you," she said, pulling two large datapads out of the satchel that now hung over the back of her seat. Handing one to Freyyr, she said, "This is a copy of the Galactic Constitution, its amendments, and the other relevant laws rights of the Galactic Republic that govern its member worlds. And this," she said, handing the second to Zaalbar, "is a database of the twenty most recent worlds to join the Republic and the steps they had to take to do so. Use them and reference them as you like."

"You honor us, Ev Pell," Freyyr said.

"No, you honor me. I am only returning the favor," Ev replied, then stood. Though it gave her little more height, it was the effect she was concerned about, "Ever since I met Zaalbar and then again when I first landed on this planet FOUR months ago, I have been impressed by the valor, honor, and pride of the Wookiees. You are a great people of great strength; both in a strength of body and in a strength of spirit. It pained me to see such a people's dignity destroyed, torn down by slavery. But, now you have taken back what is yours, your planet and your unquestionable dignity. You are a great people, resilient and wise, but I fear that others will try to walk the path of Czerka and try to enslave your strength once again.

"Thanks to Zaalbar, the Galaxy knows you exist now, and they are curious. Czerka cannot easily repeat their past actions now, and this is a blessing. From them, you are protected by your fame. But in time, your fame will fade, and others will try again, thinking that no one will notice.

"You are at a pivot point, leaders of Kashyyyk," Ev continued, clenching her fists in the air boldly, "Now, while the Republic's eyes are on you, you could chose to change the trajectory of your people, or you could continue as you always were. This is yours, and only your choice. But I do urge you to consider the future. The Republic is built on a system of mutual respect and cooperation for all sentients and all worlds. Slavery is outlawed. Trade and communication is encouraged. I urge you, good Wookiees, consider what good—and of course what harm, could come of joining the Republic. You are a great people and you do not deserve to fade into obscurity once more." Ev sat down again with a satisfied smile on her face and the head house erupted into a jumble of roars that neither Mission nor Ev could parse or understand.

Then Zaalbar stood up and roared above all the commotion, waving the datapad in the air, "Ev Pell speaks true. We will not allow the curse of slavery to enter our forests again! We will become more than scattered tribes, each vying for honor amid the shadows. We will become a great people, one people, united as the Wookiees of Kashyyyk!"

Again the Wookiees roared excitedly. Ev noticed a crowd of Wookiees of the village peering in through the open door.

Excitement, pride, and anticipation were almost tangible in the air.

"Let us feast to the future of Kashyyyk," Zaalbar said triumphantly and returned to his seat.

All the Wookiees began to fervently devour the food in front of them. The hall continued to rumble with conversation.

"You're good," Mission whispered to Ev across Zaalbar.

Ev chuckled, "Thanks. I'm told I have a lifetime of practice."

"So Zaalbar," Mission started, picking at her food, "I was wondering, I don't really know what I want to do next, so, can I stay here with you? I can help with this, uh, whatever you're doing."

"Mission, you are my closest friend. You befriended me when no others would, exiled as a madclaw," Zaalbar replied, there was a warm smile in his eyes, "As my father said, you will be as one of the tribe. You will always be welcome here."

Mission grinned and hugged his huge, hairy arm. "Thanks Big Z," she exclaimed, "You're the best."

"And you too, Ev Pell, are welcome to stay as long as you like," Freyyr added.

"I thank you for your hospitality, Freyyr," Ev replied, "But the Jedi have work for me that can't wait any longer. There are still Sith in the galaxy, and so, I can't rest yet."

"Will you at least allow us your presence for the night?" Freyyr asked.

Ev nodded, "But I must leave with the dawn. Duty to the Jedi and the Republic calls."

"We are glad that you have come," Freyyr said, flapping a massive hand in Zaalbar's direction.

"I will look forward to returning again," Ev said.

"Then, until that day comes, as you Jedi say," Freyyr began solemnly, "May the Force be with you."

12


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4- Return to the Front

Ev, Jolee, Bastila, and Juhani sat strapped into the small passenger compartment of a _Razor_-class drop-ship. The sleek craft was hardly any larger than a standard Republic snub-fighter; twice the size, at most. If any of the four Jedi had been taller than average, they would have been sitting knee-to-knee on the two narrow benches across from each other.

The engine hummed as jungle treetops whipped by beneath them. Ev noted with approval, glancing through the small port-hole beside her, that their pilot was level-handedly skilled with terrain-hugging flying. Not far ahead of them, she could dimly sense the pilots of the two strafing squadrons that jetted on ahead of them.

Bastila nudged Ev's shoulder with her own when the two officers in charge of the mission slipped into the passenger hold from the cockpit. Ev hardly needed the physical call to attention from Bastila, having received her mental nudge a moment earlier.

The lithe Miralan woman in navy green slid to the right side of the doorway and the Cerean brigadier general ducked in and squeezed into a space to the right of the door. He wore the customary crimson of the army.

"We are nearing the Sith fortress and the drop zone," the Miralan announced, Captain Anrilam, steel-faced. Her green skin was decorated with a line of small, geometric tattoos over the bridge of her nose and her hair was pulled back into a long ponytail with tight severity. "Do you have any questions on procedures?"

"I haven't got any," Jolee said while Juhani answered with a polite, "No." Both Ev and Bastila silently shook their heads.

"Good," Captain Anrilam nodded briskly.

General Mrir-Sum-Tal cleared his throat."Before you disembark, I wish to review the parameters of your mission," he started and ran his free hand absently through his thick, dark mustache while holding to the grasp hold on the ship's hull with the other. "The Sith's forces here on Ruuria are concentrated on the outskirts of the Ruurian capital city in a sizable fortress, cobbled together around a collection of munitions and other like factories. They have erected their own flimsy barracks, but their command center is housed in an existing flight control and communications tower. To our best understanding, there are anti-air gun turrets around and scattered throughout the perimeter. Their walls and physical defenses will be easily breached, being of a conglomerate and temporary nature as they are. However, the base is guarded by a substantial force of Sith ground soldiers—we estimate our own troops should be more than enough for them—and a force of Dark Jedi of undetermined size."

"There's no more than two squads worth of them," Ev observed pensively through lightly lidded eyes. "They're making no effort at masking their presence."

"I certainly hope you four are," Captain Anrilam murmured darkly.

Ev opened her eyes and caught the Cerean general's wide-eyed look of surprise.

"Sir," Ev added, in an effort towards politeness.

"Well, that is good to know," Mrir-Sum-Tal commented curtly, recovering from his surprise. "In any case, those Dark Jedi are your second priority. Your first is to cut the power to their gun turrets and communications generators in order to ensure the safe grounding of our troop ships. You have twelve standard minutes to do this before the first wave arrives. They are already _en route_ behind us. Is that enough time for you?" he asked, almost incredulously.

"As we discussed before," Ev replied, "Twelve minutes should be enough to knock out at least a significant part of the air defenses. Any more time than that would be a danger to us, dropped in the middle of, potentially, a full brigade of Sith troops."

The general let out a short sigh. It was obvious Jedi made him nervous—one redeemed Sith Lord, in particular. The navy captain, on the other hand, gave no hints of anything besides steely dedication to their mission.

Suddenly, Ev caught waves of fear, confusion, and rage emanating from somewhere ahead of their present location. The strafing runs on the Sith base had begun.

"Good," the Cerean man nodded curly, "You must maintain comm silence until the first wave of our troops has landed."

"Yes sir," Bastila replied quietly, sensing his need for affirmation.

"You will be coming in in the wake of the Halberd and Firaxen squadrons. They will not return for a second pass until you are all safely on the ground," Captain Anrilam explained. As with the general's narrative, none of this was new news to the Jedi drop team. "You will be performing a mid-altitude drop. Your repulsor-packs are outfitted with emergency chutes, should the repulsors fail. The parachute can be activated by the red tab on the left side."

Juhani checked for the red tab on her own back, running her fingers over it.

"We will be reaching the drop zone in one minute," a voice rang in from the cockpit.

"Understood," Anrilam called back.

Above the roar of the engines, Ev could make out the thunder and whine of battle drawing nearer.

"Prepare for the jump," the Miralan woman boomed, her voice cutting through all the noise. General Mrir-Sum-Tal was the first to react, slipping back through the doorway into the cockpit. The ship turned its nose up and began to climb in altitude.

"On your feet, Jedi," Anrilam ordered and all four obliged. Standing nose-to-nose, they held onto the bars on the ceiling above them. Meanwhile, the benches they had been sitting on sunk into the floor to the sound of churning gears. Ev shrugged out of her repulsor-pack and set it aside where the general had been standing moments before.

"Open the side hatches," the Miralan woman barked.

The walls beside them hissed open and began to slide away. Wind roared at the openings, threatening to tear them out of the hold prematurely. They turned to face the open hatchways, careful not to elbow one another in the nose or lose their footing; Bastila and Ev on the left and Juhani and Jolee on the right. Verdant jungle raced by below them, little flocks of birds fleeing in their path.

"Where is your repulsor-pack, Pell?" Anrilam demanded suddenly.

Bastila craned her neck to see. Ev could feel concern and fear flowing to her over their bond.

"It will just get in the way," Ev replied firmly. With a whole fortress gunning for her and her companions, she needed every bit of mobility as she could claim to keep them alive through their drop and the first moments of their landing.

Jolee and Juhani glanced over their shoulders too. "Crazy kid," Jolee mumbled, but his words were lost to the wind.

Suddenly, the jungle gave way to a vast clearing of pavement and military structures.

"Ten seconds to drop zone," the voice from the cockpit came again.

Ev adjusted her grip on the handlebar above her head and edged forward towards the open doorway, counting down in her head.

"Now!" the voice commanded.

Ev and Juhani launched themselves out of the ship, followed only seconds later by Bastila and Jolee.

Ev opened herself up to the Force, letting it rush through her like an uncontrollable rapids tearing towards the waterfall. She embraced it but did not grasp at it. It was all around her and she was a part of it, as were her three friends. The Force was in the pollen in the air that rushed past her. The Force was in the plants and worms in the ground that she plummeted towards. It was in the men and women who aimed their blasters at her below.

Angling herself into a dive, her short-cropped hair whipped in her face and her clothes rippled around her. Two lightsaber hilts rattled and bumped against her hips. Pulling them into her hands, Ev ignited them as a deadly shield of violet and crimson between her and the approaching laser-fire. Losing all sense of identity, Ev dove deeper into the Force as she dove through the air. Her body moved to dodge and intercept the shots that would have injured her companions. She sensed Bastila then Juhani enter the web with her, the Force drawing on them more than they on the Force.

Ev's feelings told her the ground was near, and she Pushed out violently with the Force, all at once righting herself, slowing her descent, and bowling over all the Sith beneath her in a ten meter radius like a sea of silvery toy soldiers. There were yells of dismay, but she hardly noticed them. Giving another Push, Ev landed lightly on the ground.

Yelling, a masked Dark Jedi was already onto her, charging over the fallen soldiers. Ev met him head-on as Juhani burned in behind her. The Sith came in high with a powerful two-handed strike. Ev met him with her right saber, wincing under the weight of his blow, while swinging low with her left. He crumpled with a groan and fell away as her red lightsaber cut into his side.

The armored Sith soldiers struggled to their feet and to collect their weapons again. A few resourceful ones stayed in a crouch and began firing. Two more Dark Jedi advanced on them.

Juhani struggled out of her repulsor-pack and reached for her lightsaber. Ev swung in to cover her from a clever sniper. The shots refracted off her weapons into the crowd of Sith around them.

Bastila plummeted into their midst, imitating Ev's landing with her own twist. As she Pushed towards the ground, knocking some of the more unsteady Sith off their feat again, she flung her pack directly into the chest of one of the Dark Jedi. He groaned and stumbled back as well. By the time she touched the ground, her double-bladed saber was in her hands and glowing yellow. Jolee reached the ground just as the other Dark Jedi, a woman, reached them. Without a word, Juhani and Bastila spun in between Jolee and the woman while he freed himself from the pack. Ev continued to defend them from blaster fire.

Without looking, she knew the dark woman was defeated. Finding himself one Dark Jedi against four Jedi Knights, the man Bastila had struck with her pack hung back at the inner edge of the circle that surrounded them.

Ev reached out with her senses through the squads of soldiers surrounding them, searching.

"Who are you?" he demanded threateningly, but there was fear behind his voice.

Ev stepped forward with a grin and flourished her lightsabers threateningly. "I am Revan," she answered confidently. Whispers erupted amidst the soldiers and Ev found what she was looking for: the grenadiers. "And you can either surrender yourselves and this planet to the Republic, or suffer the consequences."

"Never," the Dark Jedi spat.

Ev Pulled the pins from all the grenades within her reach. The sound of hundreds of tiny pins hitting the pavement went unnoticed as Firaxen Squadron came around for a second pass on the fortress.

"Jedi scum!" the lone Dark Jedi continued his curse. "Attack them!"

The soldiers surged forward, but they had only taken a few steps when every grenade in the courtyard exploded. It erupted in burst of flames and screams. Chaos and fear overtook the Sith. Bastila and Ev raised a shield in the Force to protect the four of them.

When the resulting blaze subsided, more soldiers and Sith rushed into the broad courtyard, and those that had managed to escape the blast without serious injuries charged with renewed vengeance. The battle was in motion.

There was a conspicuous power generator on the other side of the courtyard. No words needed to be spoken between the Jedi. Jolee and Juhani darted for the generator while Bastila and Ev distracted and destroyed their attackers. Ev reached out for grenade pins again in the wave of reinforcements as she beat back a squad of soldiers foolish enough to think they could take on two Jedi with only common vibroblades in their hands. Another explosion rocked the compound, accompanied by more screams.

Ev smiled grimly. They may not be able to get all the generators and axillary generators down by the time the troop ships arrived, but the chaos that the four Jedi would wreck on the fortress would be enough to ensure the incoming Republic soldiers a foothold in the battle.

Ev didn't like it, but this is where she was meant to be, back at the war front.


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5- Father and Son

Carth Onasi passed under the great arching entrance way of the Jedi Temple for the second time in his life, running his fingers absently under his collar. What usually felt comfortable and snugly tailored now constricted uncomfortably around his neck. He swallowed hard, trying to shake the feeling of being choked.

It had been nearly four mouths since his first visit to the temple when he came to see Ev's—Bastila and Jolee's too—knighting ceremony. Then he had been ushered around with the other guests who had come to see them, leaving no room for wondering where he was or wasn't supposed to be. Even after all this time working and becoming friends with Ev, Bastila, Jolee, and Juhani, the Jedi at large still made Carth uneasy.

Carth paused inside the grand entrance and gazed around, his attention unfocused. Jedi in earthy robes swept one direction or another, each caught up in his own business. For the moment at least, no one paid Carth any mind.

He could hardly believe that four month had passed already since the destruction of the Star Forge and the breaking up of their little group. Distantly, he missed them all, even Canderous, but especially Ev. Four months; the same length of time from when Carth first met Ev until they—well, there were so many Jedi around and there was no telling if any of them were eavesdropping on his mind. There were some things that it was best not to think about. In any case, in those four months since, Carth had hardly seen any of her. Their work had kept them both tied to the front of a war that wasn't quite over yet.

Soon, though, it would be very soon.

"Excuse me, sir, are you looking for someone?" The appearance of a Jedi at his side brought Carth out of his reverie. He was a youthful, pale-skinned, black-haired Nagai.

Carth's eyes widened and his mouth felt suddenly dry. _Veshisht Um? No, but he died on the Star Forge._ Carth swallowed hard again and composed himself. "Yes," he replied, with only a hint of wavering in his voice, "I would like to see the Jedi Apprentice Dustil Onasi about his part in the Battle of Korriban four months ago." Ev promised him that this would get him the respect he deserved

"And your name, sir?" the Nagai Jedi Knight asked politely.

"Captain Carth Onasi," he replied crisply, "I commanded that battle, which he was so invaluable in."

"I see, Captain Onasi," the Nagai nodded, eying Carth with curious suspicion.

"Onasi is a very common Telosian name," Carth stammered quickly. _'Don't make it obvious that you're a father coming to visit his son,' Ev had said, 'The Jedi don't like that very much.'_

"Well, Captain Onasi," the Jedi started thoughtfully, "If you would be so kind as to wait on one of those benches over there, I will see if Apprentice Onasi can be found."

"Thank you," Carth replied with a polite nod. The Nagai young man swept off deeper into the temple and Carth found the benches he had been pointing to, settling himself down to watch the other Jedi drift past.

Ev had assured him that this particular part of the afternoon was the best time to drop in for an unexpected visit. The early afternoon was spent in sparring practice for the apprentices, after which was a substantial break to change and wash up before the late afternoon meditation and lessons.

Checking his chrono intermittently, Carth's mind wandered through the rest of his schedule for his short stay on Coruscant. Tomorrow, already, he was leaving for the front again on another tour of duty. Tonight, there was a meeting with Grand Admiral Weshenn and Admiral Dodonna. Forn Dodonna was his direct superior and always dealt out his assignments, but the presence of the head of the Republic Navy was unexpected. Carth could only guess that tonight's meeting would lead to not only to a new assignment but to his full promotion to Admiral, as he had been offered after the Battle of the Star Forge. It seemed that he had proven himself in his last tour after all.

Carth looked up to see the Nagai man striding back towards him. He glanced down at his chronometer; ten minutes had passed. Standing, he took a few steps to meet the Jedi.

"You came at a good time, Captain Onasi," he commented as he reached Carth, "Apprentice Onasi is just between two training sessions now. He is waiting for you in the Southern Arboretum."

"Thank you, Jedi Knight..." Carth replied, looking for a name.

"Krant," the Nagai supplied it for him, "It's my pleasure. I don't have any pressing appointments myself this afternoon. If you would come with me, I will take you to the Southern Arboretum to meet him."

"Please lead the way, Krant," Carth replied.

Krant led him through wide galleries, vast halls, and twisting corridors. Most Jedi ignored Carth and his guide, but a few younger ones, padawans and apprentices, eyed his sharp, green uniform with curiosity.

Finally, they arrived at a pair of glass doors, fogged slightly with condensation from the inside. As Krant stepped towards them with Carth in toe, the doors slid noiselessly open. Warm, humid air carrying gentle fragrances washed over Carth as he stepped inside. He had the immediate impression of being surrounded by life as it filled his nostrils. Sure enough, the great Southern Arboretum was filled with all kinds of trees, flowers, and other plants imported from tropical worlds all over the galaxy. Little streams wove their way from pond to pond between the palms and flowerbeds and a collection of cobblestone paths twisted gently through the man-made garden.

Dustil, already pacing near the entrance looked up suddenly as they entered. "Fa—Captain Onasi," he stammared. He wore the full uniform of a Jedi now, including the beginnings of a thin braid at the nape of his neck. Except for his brown boots and belt, Dustil's entire outfit was of different shades of cream. It was a stark contrast to the Sith uniform he had worn on Korriban.

"This is Captain Onasi," Krant gave the unnecessary introduction, "I believe you have met before, in the battle of Korriban."

"Yes," Dustil answered stiffly, "We did."

"Well, I will leave you to your conversation," Krant said, and with a polite bow, excused himself.

"Thank you, Knight Krant," Carth said as he left. Then he turned on his son. "Dustil," he started in greeting, "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Dustil responded tersely, looking anywhere but at his father's face, "You?"

"I'm alright, I guess," Carth replied, trying to be casual. "The Republic Navy has been keeping me pretty busy lately."

"As usual," Dustil replied. Then added, embarrassed, "Uh, let's find a better place to talk. There's some benches this way."

"Sure," Carth echoed.

Dustil chose one of the narrow paths and started slowly down it. It snaked along side a stream channel towards a pond with a small lapping fountain in the center of it.

"This is beautiful," Carth marveled. "Do the Jedi have many gardens like this?"

Dustil breathed in the sweet, humid air and sighed deeply. "There must be six or eight different gardens," Dustil replied, "But I like this one best. It reminds me of..."

"Telos," Carth finished for him. He could feel it too.

"I wouldn't be surprised if there were some Telosian plants in here somewhere," Dustil added. "Master Sunrider—Nomi Sunrider that is—she thought up these gardens. I guess it's good for Jedi to spend some time in 'nature,' getting their hands dirty, and it's the best we can do on Coruscant. Everything living, even plants like this, are connected through the Force, so a lot of folks like to come in her to meditate or just to think."

"Do you?" Carth asked.

"Yeah," Dustil answered with a shrug.

In the small clearing with the fountain pond, Carth followed his son to one of the benches on the edge of the water. He noticed schools of small fish darting around under its surface.

"So, Krant said that you wanted to talk about the Battle of Korriban," Dustil started, looking Carth in the eyes for the first time, "I would have thought that was way past."

"Well," Carth admitted slowly, "Ev said that was the best excuse I could give the Jedi for a chance to see you."

"Did she?" Dustil smirked, "And the Jedi bought it. I guess you couldn't have told them you were here to visit your son. They would have tossed you out of here faster than a gundark can chuck a rock."

Carth chuckled, loosening up a bit. "So how are your classes? How are the Jedi treating you?" he asked.

"Better than I expected," Dustil shrugged, "They're not too suspicious of us and treat us fairly. Though, I'd be suspicious of them if they didn't keep an extra eye out for us. Bad habits take a lot of kicking before they stop showing up when you're tired. Lashowe pulled a lightsaber on someone who butted in the mess line the other morning."

"How did the other apprentices take that?" Carth asked. He hated to think that his son's friends were causing trouble at the Jedi Temple.

"We calmed her down, the lout who budged took off running for the end of the line, and a bunch of the Jedi-raised kids panicked and called in Master Waykennit. He's pretty understanding when one of us slips. He has a good sense of humor about it. Even still, Lashowe got assigned extra guided meditation hours for the day," Dustil said, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "I can't say that the other apprentices actually wanted to be our friends, but I can't really blame them. We used to be their enemies, and we're all older than the other apprentices anyway. But we've got each other, and the masters believe in us, for what it's worth."

"The Jedi do love their redemption stories," Carth commented.

Dustil laughed lightly, "And just having us around reminds everyone else that forgiveness is a virtue and coming back from the Dark Side is possible."

"No one is giving you any trouble in your classes then?" Carth asked.

"No," Dustil scoffed, "Not when it's just us. There's thirteen of us apprentices from Korriban—Lashowe, Kel, and me, and the rest of them you wouldn't know—and then those six Selkath. We're all having to relearn the same stuff, but not as much of the basic fighting techniques. So the Jedi Masters figured it was best to keep us together. That, and I think they were afraid of conflict. They're patient with us, and we're all learning pretty fast. Lashowe and a couple of the others from Korriban are having a tough time adjusting to this new way of life though. She always says she's determined to do it though, but maybe that's the wrong way of going about it. So uh," Dustil turned the conversation on his father, suddenly realizing he had been talking too much, "How's the battle been going?"

"You've probably heard," Carth started lamely, "But we're winning. We're chasing down the Sith everywhere we can find them. After the Star Forge, Korriban, and Ruuria, the Sith have been on the run. We're just taking back Republic systems and breaking them down so that they cannot form up into a threat again."

"You better get them all," Dustil warned darkly, "The more you pound them, the more the Sith will want revenge."

"I hope my superiors understand that," Carth sighed, "I'm just a captain, following orders."

"Last time I saw you, you were going by 'Lieutenant Onasi,'" Dustil observed.

"Korriban was a test," Carth replied, "They promoted me after that. And then they promised an Admiral appointment if I continued to do well through this last tour." Carth paused, debating whether to go on, "I have a meeting with the head of the Republic Navy this evening. I think that might mean another promotion for me."

"Well congratulations," Dustil praised, but there was pent-up resentment in his voice, "Now you can spend even more time with your navy friends."

"Dustil, I'm sorry," it all suddenly came pouring out. "I'm sorry for not being for you all these years. I'm sorry for putting my work ahead of you and your mother. I'm sorry I wasn't there that day. Back then, I thought I was doing the right thing, giving all I had to the Republic's war efforts, but now I'm not so sure. I lost so much. We lost so much. If I hadn't been there, then the Sith wouldn't have taken you and—"

"Dad," Dustil gently interrupted him, "You don't have to say it. I've forgiven you. Can you forgive me for joining the Sith?"

"Of course I can!" Carth whispered hoarsely, tears coming to his eyes. He wanted so badly to reach out and hug his son, but he didn't dare. There were still too many Jedi around, even in this remote part of the temple.

"So," Carth uncomfortably changed the subject, "Have you seen Ev around much?"

"No," Dustil shook his head, "She stopped in to check on our class with that Cathar—what's her name?"

"Juhani," Carth supplied for him.

"Yeah, anyway, she stopped in with Juhani to check on our class a month or so ago, but had to go right back to the front," Dustil answered.

"That's more than I've seen," Carth murmured.

"She's a real inspiration to all of us," Dustil continued with mounting excitement, "I mean, she was Revan. The masters won't admit it, but she's got to be the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy right now. And she doesn't let that go to her head either. Plus, she came back from the Dark Side deeper than any of the rest of us."

"The Jedi won't have told you that her redemption wasn't her choice," Carth replied sharply, "The captured her and rewrote her mind so that she would fight on their side."

"Huh," Dustil sat back thoughtfully on the bench, "She did mention something like that back on Korriban, before the battle." He paused, then continued on with enthusiasm, "So maybe it is true that her original redemption wasn't her choice, but when faced with her past, she didn't let her sway her from what she knew was the right path. We've all got ugly stuff in our past, maybe not as bad as her, but we have to deal with it too."

Carth nodded, a warm smile spreading across his face as Dustil praised Ev.

"But I've heard that ever since the Battle of Ruuria, the military decided that they can't be without her and those other three," Dustil added, "Every report I've seen talks about how the four of them almost cleared out the entire Sith settlement themselves. Not that I'm surprised, anyway."

Carth nodded again, "It's true. And ever since then, Ev, Jolee, Bastila, and Juhani have been shipped all over the galaxy, as the sword of the Republic. I haven't seen any of them since, well—" Carth broke off and looked all around them. No Jedi were near. The bubbling fountain behind them was the only sound besides their voices. "Dustil, Ev and I were married," Carth admitted quietly, "after the victory tour."

"Really?" Dustil laughed, dark eyes dancing. He slapped his leg and said, "I like her even more now. She went and got married? To you? Against the laws of the Jedi Council? Nice. Where did you guys get it done that the Jedi didn't notice?"

Carth's apprehension fled at his son's approval. "On Kashyyyk," he answered, beaming, "Zaalbar set up the whole ceremony for us in his village."

"Well, good for you," Dustil replied brightly. It seemed that Dustil's admiration for Ev had expanded to include Ev through their marriage. "If I have to have a step-mother, I couldn't think of anyone better."

"It's not likely that we will ever able to be a normal family," Carth admitted with a sigh. "I'm a soldier and you're both Jedi."

"And we're all working to save the Republic, at the call of our masters," Dustil's enthusiasm was dampened slightly. He took a deep breath and released it.

"Dustil, I'm sorry about your girlfriend on Korriban," Carth said seriously, "I really hope you can find another woman worthy of you."

"Dad, don't worry about me," he replied, "I miss Selene, but the Sith took more than just her from me. In the mean time, the Jedi Temple kind of lacks anything like a dating service."

Carth chuckled. "So where do we go from here?" he asked, "I doubt I'll be able to come and visit you like this very often."

"Probably not," Dustil agreed neutrally, "The other Jedi will start to suspect something, and it won't take much digging for them to find out why you're actually here."

"And then there is my work," Carth admitted.

"Right," Dustil nodded, "But I'm sure we'll find a way around it somehow."

"We'll see what happens if I really am promoted to Admiral," Carth replied, "And when you become a padawan yourself. I understand that means following around your master wherever he goes."

Dustil sighed and leaned back again. "Dad, I'm sixteen years old," he explained, almost desperately, "Thirteen is the usual cut-off for apprentices to become padawans before they're shipped off to some service corps, never to become full Jedi Knights. Our group is special because we all came in so old, but I've started to wonder if we have a chance at getting masters at all. There aren't a lot of Jedi around that don't already have a padawan of their own, after so many were killed in the war. There are more of us apprentices than there are people to train us. I keep hoping that we'll have a chance anyway, because of what we represent."

Carth put a calming hand on his son's shoulder. "You are talent and intelligent, Dustil," he said encouragingly, "I'm sure someone will see that in you and decided to train you soon enough. You haven't even been here half a year yet."

"I hope you're right," Dustil replied. Catching a glimpse of the chrono on Carth's wrist, he stood up suddenly. "I have to get cleaned up before guided meditation starts."

Carth stood and met him eye-to-eye. Dustil was as tall as he was now, and it was something of a shock. _He really is becoming a man_. "Then I don't want to make you late," Carth replied, "It was good to see you, Dustil."

"Thanks for coming to visit, Dad," Dustil replied, cracking a small smile.

Carth held out his hand and Dustil shook it firmly. Without thinking, Carth pulled Dustil into a hug, patting him on the back with his free hand.

Dustil broke away, flustered. "Well, I've got to run," he said quickly, "Say hi to Ev for me if you see her, and good luck in your meeting tonight."

"Do great in your training," Carth urged, "I'll see you later."

"Okay, bye," Dustil replied hurriedly and turned down the path towards the door. In an instant he was gone, blocked from view by lush plants and trees.

Carth sighed and sank back down onto the bench. His son had forgiven him. He had even accepted his new wife. It was as if everything was starting all over again.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He was able to imagine that he was back on Telos before the Sith came and tore his life to pieces, if only for a moment.


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6- Better Idle than Ill Doing

Gray daylight filtered in through ajar window shutters, casting flickering stripes across the floor, sparse furniture, and chamber's single occupant. The shades were fixed in their oblique angle, as the Jedi supposed that such low lighting would be conducive to peaceful meditation. From the speeders speeding along outside the Jedi Temple's walls to the other side of the planet, Coruscant hummed with life and activity—with the Force.

Ev uncrossed her legs and shifted on her seat. Sighing, she tried to focus herself inward or outward, on anything but her thoughts. Inside herself she found only restlessness and dissatisfaction. The echoes of darkness, guilt, and anger within her gave her no peace. Focusing outward did not bring her the calm she sought either. Try as she might to shut it out, the trillions of lives on Coruscant buzzed at her consciousness. The closer a person was, the louder their life-force screamed into her subconsciousness. To cut out that distraction, one might as well cut oneself off from the Force entirely.

There were young Jedi that envied her and the other truly powerful Jedi. At times like these, she envied them.

Ev sighed, shifting again. _What I need is focus. Or absolute nothingness. I seek oblivion from all of this._

Perhaps when the Jedi destroyed her mind, they also destroyed her focus. From all she could gather about the Revanchist—her own past—her mind had been uncommonly sharp, unclouded by distractions.

And perhaps they destroyed her focus to keep her from seeking deeper within her own mind. The Jedi council claimed to have erased her memories, and yet she could not believe that. They merely buried them. Visions of the Star Maps she had once visited proved that. They had wanted her to remember that, but no more. To remember more would be to make their tool in the war against Malak too dangerous. And now that Malak was dead and the Sith remnants all but destroyed, they had no used for their puppet any more.

_A week after returning from the war front, Ev was already growing edgy. In all that time, the Jedi Council had called on her not even once. When she caught sight of Vandar Tokare's small form in the corridor, she intercepted._

"_What is it, Ev Pell?" he asked with only mild impatience._

"_Vandar," Ev started, "When will I need to report for my next duty with the fleet?"_

"_Ah," Vandar was caught slightly off-guard. "Your part in this war is finished. You did your duty in breaking the Sith and you are no longer needed at the front."_

"_Then the Council has other plans for me?" Ev asked, attempting to read through the Jedi Master's words._

"_Not for the moment, no," he replied tersely. "In the mean time, I suggest that you spend time in meditation and centering yourself. I still sense much anger in you."_

And that was something the Jedi Council did little to help with, other than pointing it out as a constant in her life which she must fix. Little help meditation did either.

Ev had spent six months chasing down and eradicating Sith along side the Republic Military. In all that time, she had returned to Coruscant only twice, to be sent out by the Council the very next day again. She hardly rested, jumping from planet to planet, lent from fleet to fleet. After Ruuria, the Republic Military command decided that they could not do without Juhani, Jolee, Bastila, and herself. Despite their lack of leisure time, the four of them had grown closer together throughout their travels, bound more strongly together in the Force.

Then suddenly they were split up. Jolee was sent with one fleet and Juhani with another. Bastila was lent to the military command's campaign planning committee for her insight into the Sith's organization and motives. Ev, on the other hand, was left to idleness in the Jedi Temple with no hope of direction or assignment from the Council.

It was only in battle that Ev had truly been able to lose herself and clear her mind. Amid the carnage she wrought, she found peace. Only in those moments was she able to forget what had been done to her—and what she herself had done. Looking back, the thought of that made her uncomfortable, but so it was. Despite herself, she itched to return to the war. She longed for that calm again.

Maybe that was what scared the Jedi Masters.

When meditation and sparring failed her and, wandering bored her, Ev would browse through the archives or make herself useful in the training of master-less apprentices. In the archives, Ev found herself drawn to the history of the Sith and of the wars that had defined her lifetime. She grasped at every scrap of her own history that the Jedi dared to keep on file.

"_May I ask what you are doing?"_ _the historian Atris asked in such a tone as to suggest that she already knew the answer and did not approve._

"_I am reading the logged accounts of Jedi involved in the Mandalorian wars," Ev replied flippantly, as if she did not catch the meaning in Atris's voice._

"_That is not something you should be reading," Atris snapped and reached for Ev's holodisk reader. She Pulled at it with the Force, but Ev countered her evenly and the pad remained in her hand._

"_I was not aware that this was restricted material," Ev said icily, "It was in the common resource library."_

"_It is not," Atris retorted impatiently, "But you should not be reading it. All that you will find in there will cause you harm. You will not find what you are looking for."_

"_Because that is actually restricted?" Ev asked._

_Atris ignored her question huffily, "I have been monitoring your reading list, Roan'evrue Pell. And I do not approve. I suggest you take your interests and casual readings elsewhere."_

"_Thank you for the feedback and advice, Master Atris," Ev replied coolly, pressing the holodisk reader firmly to the table should Atris decided to give it a Yank_ _again. "But, I have need of neither."_

"_You don't know what's good for you!" Atris muttered and stormed off in a huff, white skirt flapping agitatedly about her heels._

Despite Atris's warnings, Ev continued her research, but it revealed little. Ev was beginning to become acquainted with her own reputation and character, but there were no records of her seemingly famed speeches, only vague references. It was almost as if, after her fall, the Jedi had determined to rid the Order of the Revanchist's influence, even in written word. If she did not find anything useful soon, Ev vowed to begin combing the other archives and libraries of Coruscant. Someone must have found records of her past worth preserving. She was Revan, after all. There were few names in the galaxy as widely known as hers or names which carried so much weight and meaning.

_Finally, after three weeks of wandering about the Jedi Temple, the Council called Ev before them. However, it was not for the reasons she had hoped._

"_Ev, we are concerned," Nomi Sunrider began._

"_Thank you for your concern, Master Sunrider," Ev replied with a bow, "This confinement and inactivity has had me unsettled."_

"_That is not what has us concerned, Ev," Vrook cut directly to the point, "Your behavior does. Why do you continue to wield a red lightsaber?"_

"_It is a reminder of Korriban, of where I have come from, and of others who have fallen," Ev replied evenly. She unhooked the saber from her right hip and transferred it to her right hand._

"_Red is the color of the Sith," Master Kavar put in, "We needn't remind you of that. It has no place among the Jedi."_

"_And it reminds others of who you were," Vrook added testily, "Darth Revan."_

"_That reminder often gave me the upper hand in our war against the Sith," Ev replied._

"_To use your identity as Revan in such a way walks a fine line," Nomi pointed out, "It flirts with the Dark Side."_

"_You have had plenty of idle time since returning from the war," Atris said, "What I do not understand is why you have not changed the crystal since then."_

"_As I said, it's a reminder," Ev repeated._

"_Then let the hilt remind you alone," Tyjesh Kay, the Bimm Jedi Master, suggested firmly, "No one else needs reminding."_

She did not change the crystal as they had asked. Ev was not one to be sentimental about objects, but she could not bring herself to change anything about the lightsaber that she had picked up in the Tomb of Naga Sadow. When she held it in her hand, she knew, deep down, that it had some connection to her past. She suspected her buried memories required a trigger to surface. She could not throw away the red lightsaber on the chance that it could be part of one of those triggers.

"_Using that saber and claiming to be Revan," Zez-Kai Ell warned, "It is dangerous. There are countless examples through history of Jedi who have pretended to be Sith, only to fall."_

"_Ulic Kel-droma," Atris provided, "For example."_

"_But for you, I fear it is even more dangerous," Zez-Kai continued, "Because you truly once were the Sith Lord you pretend to be."_

Ev never once claimed to be Darth Revan. She never claimed to want to lead the Sith again. She wanted neither. Like it or not, Revan was one of her names, and it was a powerful name. At its mention, soldiers hesitated, Sith faltered, and confidence failed. It was a power Ev had on her lips and, in war, she would not discard any powers she had over the enemy. Perhaps that was un-Jedi-like, but it was calculated and practical. Ev knew the fine line she walked better than any Jedi Master could ever hope to.

But, there were some things that one should not bother trying to explain to the most highly exulted Jedi in the Order. For one, that you understood something better than they did.

"_We are also wary of your involvement with the youth from Korriban and Selkath," Kronn Hakkes added. "In order for them to see the light and walk constantly in it, they must be free of all damaging influences."_

"_And I am one of these damaging influences?" Ev asked, indignation rising inside of her. She took a deep breath to quell it._

"_They look up to you, Ev, more than you know," Embrik Waykennit pointed out gently._

"_For all your struggles with the Dark Side," Kavar explained, "You are not the best role-model for them."_

"_I have heard it said that for someone who is recovering from a fall, seeing another who has fallen and returned strongly is inspiring," Ev replied evenly, "A guidepost." She thought of Juhani._

"_Maybe so," Zez-Kai murmured thoughtfully._

"_I cannot feel certain that you have returned strongly from your fall, Roan'evrue," Atris observed harshly._

_Ev cringed with Atris's continuing insistence at using that ridiculous name that was not really hers._

Had Ev really recovered, or was she still living the life of a Sith in Jedi robes? The question haunted her. The more she mulled on it, the less certain she became. From her heart, she believed in love, compassion, and freeing the oppressed of their oppressors. At the same time, she believed in crushing the Sith until there was nothing left of them. Her actions set her apart from the other Jedi, but was she still one of them? Was it the Code that made the Jedi or was it the Jedi that made the Code?

"_There is much anger in you," Ruell D'tarrn observed, "Though you keep it buried deep."_

"_So I am told," Ev replied dryly, "Frequently."_

"_Besides anger, you let your other emotions run about the surface of your consciousness," Vrook added, "A Jedi should not let his passions and feelings of the moment take control of him."_

"_You pardon, Master Vrook," Ev began as politely as she could, "But I believe I know the difference between feeling emotions and letting them rule me. A living being cannot be completely dead to emotion." Ev let it out. She could not stand to be treated like a child any more._

"_You must be very careful, Ev," Master Dorak warned, "Such thoughts and justifications can lead to the Dark Side. You must make an effort to bring your emotions more under control."_

"_You should meditate and center yourself on the Jedi Code," Embrik suggested._

"_And I have also sensed something in you which disturbs me greatly," Atris added, "Are you in a romantic relationship with someone?"_

"_That is none of your business," Ev retorted briskly, her dark eyes hardening. They would not take Carth away from her, or take her away from Carth._

"_That is precisely what—" Atris began. _

"_Atris," Nomi interrupted, "Let her have her peace."_

_Ev took several calming breaths, then met the eyes of each Jedi Master within her field of vision. "What would you have me do, then, Masters?" she asked._

"_Master Waykennit is right in his suggestion," Nomi replied, "You should focus yourself on meditation. Let the Force guide you into the Jedi you should be."_

And so here Ev sat, in one of the msny meditation chambers, trying to discover just who she was and who she should be. Should she even be a Jedi? Was this the place for her? The purpose for her remaking was finished. She was no longer needed in the fight against the Sith. What now? There must me some other purpose for her being.

Dimly, she became aware of another presence in the meditation room. She let her eyelids lift and saw an elderly Jedi occupying one of the other two seats. Though he sat in a relaxed meditation posture, his eyes were open and fixed on her.

"Master Cafran," Ev began, a sly smile spreading across her face, "I should thank you. Here I was worrying that I was unable to focus myself well enough to shut out distractions, but here you have joined me without my notice. You have proved me wrong, and that makes me feel better."

"I had hoped so," he replied, smiling back. In the past three weeks at the Jedi Temple, Visto Cafran had been one of the very few Jedi that had not shied away from casual greetings and conversation with Ev.

"What brings you here?" Ev asked.

"You are disturbed," Visto replied. His voice was jovial but his expression serious. "I couldn't help but notice it when I was walking by." He waved at the door behind him.

Ev snorted, "That's one way of putting it." She then realized, "Great. Soon the entire Temple will sense it too. That will do wonders for my reputation here."

"I doubt it," Visto shook his head, "There are plenty of disturbed younglings and padawans cloistered up in these meditation chambers. It is nearly impossible to know one from the next behind closed doors. Few know you well enough to distinguish your presence from the rest."

"And you do?" Ev asked. Visto may have earned a place in her acquaintance by his friendliness and his past friendship with Jolee, but she was wary of his intrusion on her privacy.

"If only barely, it seems," Visto nodded. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments longer before Visto sighed and began again, "I may be just another cooky old Jedi, but I am a Jedi Master. I have trained more than a few padawans myself and helped guide them through their rough spots. Granted, none of them had to deal with the earth-shaking reality that they were once a Sith Lord and can't remember any of it," he chuckled then sobered, "I sense you could use some help, Ev, and I want to offer it."

Ev remained pensively silent, taking in his proposition.

"The other Jedi all respect you, but many also fear you," Visto assessed, "The Council Members do not trust you."

"Don't I know it," Ev admitted frustratedly.

"I think I may have seen that more clearly than any others," Visto admitted, "And it disturbs me."

"Why?" Ev asked, "They have every reason to. I was once a Sith, and they really have no idea what's going on inside of me. They don't know if Revan could surface again. Force, I don't even know that! They can sense plain as day that I'm not following the code and keeping my emotions in check. As far as they know, I could be a time bomb waiting to go off." Ev paused to draw in a deep breath, then added, "And I can count on one hand how many other Jedi come close to being as strong in the Force a I am, but I lack the advantage of their years of control and discipline."

"And in that, they do you a disservice by neglecting to guide you," Visto said, shaking his head regretfully.

"You don't fear me," Ev observed suddenly, "Nor do you distrust me."

"I see no point in it," Visto replied openly, "You speak with honesty and compassion. Perhaps you harbor more emotions that most see proper in a Jedi, but I cannot condemn that. Your emotions are a natural reaction to the situation you are in."

"Then you see nothing wrong with the anger the council members are so frequently nagging me about?" Ev asked pointedly.

"Anger, hm? Now anger can be very dangerous if nothing is done about it, especially given your past," Visto began slowly, "But both you and the council are treating your anger in the wrong way, however."

"How so?" Ev asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"It is pointless to look at yourself and say 'Self, stop being angry. Be a better person,'" Visto pointed out. "You need to find the root of your anger and deal with it there, at the source."

"What makes you think I haven't tried that?" Ev asked.

"Because you are still angry," Visto replied, with a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

Ev sat back in her chair. She admitted, "Fair point."

"Why are you angry?" he asked, then quickly amended, "You don't have to tell me, but it may help to speak the reasons out loud."

"No, it's alright," Ev sighed, "I am angry because of how the council has been slighting me, treating me like a child. They monitor my every move and are quick to dole out disapproval at everything I do. This idleness since the war is driving me crazy, and they don't want me doing anything besides meditation."

"Hm," Visto nodded, but urged, "I sense that your anger is deeper than that. Those are surface issues of the moment."

Ev drew in a deep breath and sighed. "I am angry at them for what they did to me," she admitted, searching herself, "I am angry that they destroyed what I was and reformed me as a tool to meet their needs, and that they planned to keep that whole thing a secret from me. I have to believe that I, as Revan, had reasons for what I was doing, good ones. Even if my past lies with the Dark Side, I had reason. Without trying to figure out those reasons, they did their very best to erase my memories. And now, they want to keep pretending none of this ever happened. They don't want me to find out more about my past. They expect me to live with blissful contentment that they did what was right for me and for the galaxy."

"Now we're getting somewhere," Visto nodded. "Go deeper. I don't think the Jedi Council is the only target of your anger."

Ev grasped desperately at thoughts that threatened to fade away. "I am angry at all of those who perpetrated, assisted, or allowed atrocities like Taris and Cathar to take place: the Mandalorians, Malak, the Sith, Czerka, the whole system," Ev said, frustration mounting, "Damn it all! That's not it yet either, is it?" She struck a balled fist against her leg.

"Now you're starting to sound more like Revan," Visto admitted, "A confused Revan, but Revan all the same. That furious compassion is a part of your past."

"You knew me before?" Ev asked, suddenly taken aback and yet eager for more.

"How old do I look to you?" Visto asked pointedly, "Of course I knew of you and ran across you a handful of times."

"What was—?" Ev began.

"I didn't come here to satisfy your curiosities," Visto cut her off sharply, "Not now anyway. You must face your anger, and I still don't think you have hit the heart of it."

"Who else is there to be angry at? The whole kriffing galaxy?" Ev asked frustratedly.

"You say you are angry at those who caused and allowed suffering," Visto pointed out, "But have you forgotten, it was Revan—you that began this war which has claimed lives by the trillions and devastated trillions more? Have you pushed that out of your mind?"

Ev leaned back, speechless, as if struck by a powerful blow to the head. "I think you may be right, Master Cafran," Ev breathed as she recovered, "I—I am angry at myself for all that I have done."

"Self-anger can be the most poisonous kind," Visto said, "It permeates everything you do, everything you think. It can tear you apart and shake your very foundations if left unchecked."

"You sound as if you are speaking from experience," Ev observed.

Visto did not respond directly, "Now that you can examine your anger for what it is, you must dispel it."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Ev asked, "I do feel better for having said all this aloud, but it doesn't feel any easier to just wish it away."

"Have you considered forgiveness?" Visto asked, cocking his head to one side.

"Forgiveness?" Ev repeated incredulously, "How can I forgive them for all they've—how can I forgive myself?"

"That is for you to discover," Visto replied, "But you must, or you will never find the peace that you are seeking."

Ev sighed and looked down at her lap. "Forgiveness," she echoed listlessly.

"It will take time and humility," Visto encouraged, "But if you work at it, you will be able to do it. I'm sure of it."

Half a smile crossed Ev's lips for a moment and she met his eyes again. "Thank you, Master Cafran," she said, "For choosing this afternoon to barge in on my privacy."

Visto laughed, "Any time, any time. What else does an old Jedi like myself have to do with his time besides meddling in other people's private affairs?" He started again, "You know, I think I have an idea for how you can better spend your time."

"What?" Ev asked.

"How about taking a padawan learner?" Visto suggested.

"A padawan?" Ev repeated.

"You have a lot of skills and knowledge that should be passed on to the next generation of Jedi," Visto pointed out, "And your unique perspective may prove inspiring."

"But the council would never agree to let me take on a padawan," Ev protested, "They have already called me a damaging influence on the apprentices that I have tried to help."

"'Damaging influence?'" Visto said disgustedly, "I can't imagine that the whole council was of that opinion."

"Atris, Master Hakkes, and many of the others seemed to think so," Ev replied.

"Atris can go eat her socks," Visto replied, almost automatically. "I think, perhaps, you overlooked those who were silent. You have a powerful ally in Master Waykennit, you know, an alliance which will soon lose its power as his year-long term on the council comes to a close."

"Master Waykennit has been more sympathetic, I will give you that," Ev agreed. "He did once admit to wanting to take me as a padawan when I was younger."

"There is more to it than that," Visto replied, "He has probably not said it himself, but it was he and his master that discovered you, a child of refugees on the outer rim. He carried you, infant in a sling, all the way to Dantooine himself, changing your diapers and bottle feeding you for the entire journey."

"He remembers when I was nothing more than an innocent child," Ev assessed thoughtfully.

"Embrik may be only a short-term member of the Jedi Council, but he is well-spoken and persuasive," Visto continued, "I believe that he can sway the Council's vote regarding your taking of a padawan. Approaching him and ask for his support."

Ev nodded.

"Do you have someone in mind already?" he asked.

Only a moment's thought, and a face flashed in the front of Ev's mind. "Actually, yes I do," she replied, smiling.

"Well, now that that is underway as well," Visto began again, "There is something else I would like to rectify, if you would allow me."

"What is that?" Ev asked.

"The Council's continuing neglect of the completion of your re-training," Visto replied. "As you said, your control and focus are lacking."

"I would be honored if you'd take the time to help me out with that," Ev bowed her head respectfully.

"In that case, may I lead you through some guided meditation?" Visto asked permission to begin.

"Please do," Ev replied.

Students filed out of the lecture hall, all ex-Sith or Selkath. Ev lingered outside the doorway, giving each an encouraging smile as they passed. Those that saw her returned her smile and Dustil greeted her with, "Hey Ev." The last to leave the classroom was their instructor, Master Embrik Waykennit.

"Master Embrik," Ev caught his attention.

"Ah, Ev," he replied with a smile, stopping in the doorway, "How are you this afternoon?"

"Fine," she responded, "And you?"

"I am doing alright myself," Embrik answered. With a light laugh he added, "All of those apprentices really are learning well. Their enthusiasm to really get it right is infectious. They are really pulling each other along."

"I have been quite impressed with their progress myself," Ev admitted.

Embrik began walking casually down the corridor towards his next destination and Ev fell into stride along side him. "I really do appreciate all the help you have been giving them in the sparring ring and out of it," Embrik began, "As do they, no matter what other members of the Council say."

"Thank you, Embrik," Ev replied, "Sometimes I wonder."

"It really is a pity that there are too few Jedi left after this war to give them each a master," Embrik said wistfully, "And that Atris refuses to budge on repealing our single-padawan policy."

"That is actually what I wanted to speak to you about," Ev started. "I would like to take a padawan."

"One of this group?" Embrik asked.

"Yes," Ev nodded, "Dustil Onasi."

"Dustil, huh?" Embrik nodded with approval, "He would really benefit from your individual tutelage."

"I am concerned that the Council will deny my request," Ev admitted, "Given what they said earlier this week."

"No," Embrik reassured her, "There may be some apposed to the idea, but I believe the majority would support your decision. This would be a constructive and positive use of your time. And, I believe Dustil is ready for this."

"Thank you, Embrik," Ev bowed her head respectfully as they walked.

"I believe we will have some time in our meeting tomorrow to discuss it, if you can come and bring the boy along with you," Embrik suggested.

"I can do that," she said, "I'll inform Dustil."

Embrik stopped and turned to face Ev. "Ev, I am sorry about all this," he apologized, "You're such a special case on so many levels. No one really knows what to do with you."

"So I've noticed," Ev replied dryly.

"If there's any other help I can offer you, please, don't be afraid to ask," Embrik offered.

Ev almost denied that she needed anything, but then remembered Visto's suggestion from the previous afternoon. "I know you are quite busy with all of your duties," Ev began carefully, "But I have been struggling with the disciplines of focus and clearing my mind. I would appreciate any guidance you could give me."

"I would be happy to guide you, Ev," Embrik replied, "You may be far beyond needing a master in many ways, but I am glad to see that you are not too proud to admit your weaknesses."

"Thank you, Master Embrik," Ev bowed again.

"Okay, I'm here," Dustil practically dashed off the lift onto the landing outside of the High Council Chambers where Ev waited for him. He fidgeted, adjusting the collar of his formal robes. "But what is this all about? I hope you didn't rat me out about anything."

"I would be the last to do that," Ev replied with an enigmatic smile.

"So?" Dustil persisted.

Before Ev could give him another illusive reply, the doors to the Council Chamber swung open. "Let's go," she urged.

Ev strode inside and bowed to the Jedi Masters. Dustil stiffly followed her lead. In all of his time training to be a Jedi, he had never been called before the council until today.

"Ev Pell," Nomi Sunrider began, "Master Waykennit has told us of your intention to take Dustil Onasi as your padawan learner."

"You—I what?" Dustil stammered, gaping at Ev.

"I see you did not inform him yourself," Nomi cracked a smile. "We have come to the conclusion that this is a good decision for both of you. Dustil, you will be released from your classes to study solely under Ev now."

"Thank you, Masters," Ev said and bowed again.

"Thank you," Dustil repeated hastily, bowing as well.

"You may go," Nomi said, "May the Force be with your partnership."

As Ev turned and left the chamber, Dustil at her heels, she could not help but feel the waves of sour disapproval rolling off of Atris. She smiled at her own small victory.

The doors closed behind them again and they were left alone in the hall. Dustil rounded on her, "You could have told me."

"But then I wouldn't have had the satisfaction of that wonderful look of surprise on your face," Ev teased.

"Ev!" Dustil retorted impatiently.

"Fine," she chuckled, "In all honesty, I wasn't sure if they would let me take a padawan, much less one of you Korriban trainees."

"I'm glad they did," Dustil replied, suddenly awed, "This means that I actually will be able to become a Jedi Knight after all."

"If I let you make it that far," Ev teased.

"Thanks so much for doing this," Dustil said eagerly.

"I didn't do this just for you," Ev jovially pointed out, "I've been bored, and I think you will keep me plenty busy."

Dustil laughed. "So where do we start?" he asked.

"I was thinking," Ev proposed, "That you try to give me a beating down in the sparring ring. I want to see how much you've improved lately."

"Then you'll teach me double-wielding?" Dustil asked.

"You're not getting a second saber until you learn to keep track of both of mine," Ev replied with firm playfulness, "Do that, and then we'll talk."

"You're on!" Dustil exclaimed.


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7- The Shame of the Dark Side

Bastila felt Ev coming long before she saw her round the bend in the corridor ahead.

"You're late," Bastila scolded lightly, "I was just coming to look for you."

"Sorry," Ev apologized with a shrug and a smile, "I got caught up in the sparring ring with Dustil and didn't notice how much time had flown by."

"That seems to be a common excuse of yours these days," Bastila replied. "Well, where shall we have our chat?" With all of the secrets Ev sheltered from the Jedi, they had to be careful where they had even their most casual conversations. Even if she wanted to, Ev could not keep any real secrets from Bastila. Thankfully, she did not want to. Bastila remained her constant ally and confidante, and, oddly enough, coach. Despite the large gap in their ages, Ev and Bastila still often fell back on the roles of apprentice and teacher forced upon them during their journeys in search of the Star Forge.

"I need to head back to my room and change before my outing this evening," Ev replied, "We could chat while we walk back that way." After a pause, she added, "There is no one in our path. At least, not at the moment."

Bastila still marveled at the breadth of Ev's power, which seemed to grow by the day. "Alright," she agreed, "I trust Dustil isn't giving you too hard of a time."

"No, no, not at all," Ev laughed as they began walking towards the wing of the temple where both of them had their living quarters, " At least, not more than I deserve. He's a good kid, all things considered, and a studious learner. I really am enjoying teaching him. Having a padawan fills me up in a way I hadn't expected. You really should consider taking a padawan, Bastila. You're not a half-bad teacher yourself."

"I am far too busy with the campaign planning committee," Bastila made an excuse. That wasn't the real reason, and by the look in Ev's eyes as she spoke, her friend knew it too.

"This war won't go on full-throttle forever," Ev replied, "It is already starting to slow down. I'm sure you see that. When your duties with the military lighten up, you really should take a padawan. I'm sure it will be good for you."

"I'll consider it," Bastila replied uncomfortably.

"You know," Ev added, "If you found someone with a knack or even an interest in military planning, you could even start training someone now. Sitting with you at the meetings would be a certain type of training, even if you couldn't spend as much time sparring and the like."

"So what is this outing you have tonight?" Bastila changed the subject.

"Ostensibly, I am taking Dustil into the lower levels of Coruscant for a lesson on suffering, justice, contentment, and social stratification," Ev explained, then leaned closer to Bastila and continued in a low murmur, "While actually, Dustil is going on his own and returning with his notes tomorrow. I have a meeting of my own tonight. Carth is back on Coruscant for a two-day leave."

Bastila smirked. _So that's why Ev is in a better mood than she has been all month._ "But do you think that's a good idea," she asked quietly, "Sending Dustil on his own? The lower levels of the city can be quite dangerous."

"If the Sith taught him nothing else, they taught him to trust no one and nothing," Ev replied confidently, "He knows it's dangerous and he will be on his guard. He always is. Trust is something we need to work on, but mistrust will protect him for the evening, anyway. Besides, he is only to observe and take notes, not to get involved in anything. And I'm sending HK along to shadow him in case something does happen."

"I would think that blood-thirsty droid would do more harm than good in an exercise like this," Bastila observed with a snort.

Ev chuckled, "True, but I've told him to stay out of sight and stalk Dustil discretely. Dustil doesn't know that he'll be shadowed. I am hoping that his senses are sharp enough that he will figure it out though."

"Do you trust Dustil to stay out of trouble?" Bastila asked skeptically. She didn't know Dustil or the other students from Korriban as well as Ev did, but she still felt a Sith was a Sith; all angry brutes, ready to stick their lightsaber in anything that caught their attention.

"Mostly," Ev replied with a shrug as they arrived at the door to her room. She keyed it open and they both stepped inside. Like all of the other Jedi's chambers, Ev's room had bare cream colored walls and contained only a twin bed, a small closet and drawers, and a tiny bed-side table. The door clicked shut behind them. Ev added, obviously sensing Bastila's feelings towards the Korriban students, "Dustil and the others may have been training to be Sith, but they voluntarily sought to change sides. They want to become Jedi. They want to change their ways, whatever it takes. While there have been some incidents of old, bad habits flaring up, they all have been making immense progress, Dustil almost the most of all."

Bastila sat down on the edge of Ev's bed as Ev moved to her closet and stripped out of her sweaty practice robes. There was no point of physical modesty between Ev and Bastila, when they intimately shared every feeling that rose into their minds. Even so, Bastila averted her eyes to stare at the plain, durasteel door. "Fine," Bastila admitted, "You do know them all better than I do."

Pulling on a pair of brushed denim pants, Ev cast a look over her shoulder at Bastila. "You still hate the Sith, don't you?" she observed.

"Jedi do not hate," Bastila replied sharply.

"No, but you do," Ev persisted. "I don't have to tell you that I can feel it in you. You even want to hate the students we have here whose pasts lie with the Sith."

"Ev, that's not true, I—" Bastila protested.

"You know it's pointless to argue with me," Ev retorted firmly. She pulled on a cream-colored tunic and clasped a thin belt around her waist. The whole outfit looked like ordinary Coruscanti fashion, though still in Jedi creams. Even the belt was a fashion accessory rather than the thick utility belts Jedi usually wore.

Bastila sighed as Ev sat down next to her on the bed. "I can't move beyond what the Sith did in this war, and what they did to me," Bastila admitted. She dreaded saying any more, but Ev remained silent, waiting for her to continue. "But, in the end, after all the goading and torture Malak put me through, it was me who decided to become a Sith. I took up that role willingly. I wanted the power and recognition. I embraced the Dark Side to get it. Even though it was for such a short time, they called me Darth Bastila. I was a Dark Lord of the Sith. In that battle, so many good men and women fighting for the Republic died because of me."

Sympathy flooded over their bond from Ev. "Try having an entire war worth of deaths on your conscience," Ev replied. She paused then continued, "A Jedi Master I respect recently told me that I need to learn to forgive; not just forgive the Mandalorians and the Sith, but I also need to forgive myself."

"Ev, I don't think I can do that," Bastila shook her head, "My fall to the Dark Side haunts my every thought."

"And it will continue to unless you can forgive yourself," Ev replied firmly, "Or so I'm told, anyway. Shoot," Ev suddenly spurted, seeing the time on her chrono. She leaped up from the bed, "I'll be late if I don't hurry." She clipped a money pouch to her belt, purposely neglecting her lightsabers, then swung a plum-colored riding cape over her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she apologized, "I've got to run, if I'm to make our date on time via public transports."

"I understand," Bastila replied, wishing she really did understand that thrill of excitement and love that surged all over Ev. She followed Ev back out into the hall.

Ev closed the door and dashed off with a wave, saying, "I'll see you later, Bastila."

"Have fun," Bastila called halfheartedly.

Hearing Ev's footsteps fade away down the corridor into nothing, Bastila felt her presence as firmly as if Ev was still standing next to her. It never changed. Distance meant nothing. She wondered just how Ev coped with having a second person in her head at all times. It hard seemed to bother her at all. Maybe that was because Ev had been sensing Bastila's presence for every moment in her current memory.

For Bastila, however, she could remember all the time before that moment, nearly two years ago, aboard the _Taninim_ when she reached out to the dying mind of Darth Revan, in a reckless effort to preserve it, and irreversibly linked herself to the Sith Lord. She knew now that that naive, split-second decision had chanced the course of her life forever.

She couldn't have known then what the Jedi Council would do with Revan or the part she would play in the life of a woman who had once been a Sith Lord but remembered nothing of it.

_As the Force willed it._ She sighed, staring down the corridor where Ev had gone.

Bastila, unlike Ev, clearly remembered her few short weeks as a Dark Lord of the Sith; the power, the respect, the exhilaration, the absolute disregard for other sentients with which she acted. It was behind her and forgiven, as far as the Jedi were concerned, but she knew it would haunt her forever.

Deep down, Bastila knew that if not for Revan—if not for Ev—she would not have fallen as she had. This was not the obvious sense that if Revan had not fallen and brought the Sith back to attack the Republic, there wouldn't have been any Sith for Bastila to become Dark Lord of. It was more personal.

Despite all of the lectures and warnings of the Dark Side that she had given Ev, all along, the mysterious, buried darkness within her fascinated Bastila. She felt it continuously through their bond, but could not grasp at it as she could Ev's other feelings. She could not find the source. No matter how compassionately Ev walked in the light, that darkness never disappeared, never wavered.

It was still there, even now.

It drew Bastila in, despite herself. Her curiosity for what fueled Ev was the tipping point that Malak used to turn her, in the end.

Not that she could blame Ev for her own fall. She didn't.

Being bonded to someone such as Ev wasn't all bad either. Ev was inspiring, energetic, and wiser than even she knew. Bastila admired Ev in so many ways. Ev was among the most loyal and supportive friends Bastila had ever had. Through their bond, Ev understood her in a way that no other could. A_ll the same—_

She felt a powerful need to meditate to clear her mind. The mediation chambers were too far away. Her private bedroom would have to do.

Bastila absently made her way back to her room, her mind still wrestling with thoughts of Ev and of the Dark Side.

Once in her room, she stripped down to only her undertunic and leggings and settled into a comfortable, meditative pose on her bed.

Slowly, slowly, her stresses and worries faded away, leaving her with calming oblivion in the Force.

Suddenly, a rush of violent emotions threw Bastila out of her meditations. Passion, urgency, and ecstasy flooded from Ev over their bond. Bastila, alone in her room, felt hot and uncomfortable, her face flushed.

Shaking herself and trying to ignore it, Bastila rose from her bed and began to get dressed again. She knew from experience that it was pointless to attempt to meditate when Ev was—well, doing what she was doing now. She also knew that focused, rhythmic sparring exercises were just enough to distract herself from the bond.

With that thought in mind, Bastila clasped her lightsaber to her belt and headed for the sparring rooms, doing her best not to blush as she walked past the other Jedi. Ev's emotions still smouldered at the front of her mind.

Not that Bastila could fault Ev for her relationship with Carth, for all the Jedi teachings said. Love supported and fueled Ev, and she in turned poured it out on those she cared for, Bastila included. Bastila couldn't see anything wrong with that. A small part of her—actually, a bigger part than she was willing to admit to herself—wistfully hoped that she would find love like that in time.

Bastila found one of the larger practice gyms. It was mostly empty except for a cluster of older students sparring with live sabers under the supervision of a master. In the opposite corner, Bastila took the long hilt of her lightsaber in her hands. The metal was cool on her palms. She sunk into the initial stance of Shii-Cho and ignited her saber. She concentrated on the hum of her yellow blade.

Once that was the center of her focus, she began. She stepped and swung through the movements of Shii-Cho over and over, letting her body's well-trained reflexes think for her and draw her deeper into the Force.

After some time, she moved into Makashi then Niman, and then into the tightly controlled forms of Soresu and Shien. Breathing deeply and beginning to sweat, Bastila focused her attention so intensely that nothing but the sweep of her lightsaber crossed her mind.

Just as she switched into Ataru, a form she still struggled to perfect, the down-sweep of her blade met resistance. Her yellow lightsaber crackled as it clashed against another silver blade. Jolting back to reality, Bastila took in the owner of the other silver saber, standing across from her in the beginning stance of Ataru, small red eyes fixed on her. Bastila's opponent was a white Twi'lek woman; not cream colored like many other Twi'leks that Bastila had seen before, but completely albino. She wore dark crimson robes and had similarly colored geometric tattoos at the ends of her lekku and across her forehead, almost in the shape of a tiara. Her lips were parted in a sly, toothy smile.

Their eyes met, and the Twi'lek woman lunged. They began what seemed like a dance of Ataru. Neither aimed to defeat the other, but only to meet strike for strike in perfect form.

Bastila had not fought someone else with a double-bladed saber in a long while. She twisted and spun, enjoying both the freedoms and constraints of her weapon of choice.

The Twi'lek woman was good. She sparred with aggressive energy and intense focus, but there were holes in her technique. Bastila had only to take advantage of one of those weaknesses, and she got the point, adjusting her stance for the next pass around. Even still, there were points in Ataru where she outshone Bastila, moving with athletic grace and ease.

Bastila marveled that she could not remember seeing this particular Twi'lek before. Granted, she had spent very little time in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, so there were many Jedi that she did not know. Still, Bastila was sure that she would remember someone as distinctive looking as her current sparring partner.

Finally, panting hard, Bastila stepped back and called, "Enough."

Smiling lightly, the Twi'lek bowed and extinguished both blades of her saber. Bastila shut hers off as well.

"Good bout," Bastila commented.

"Yes, thank you for that," she replied with another small bow.

Bastila could not think of anything else to say, and before she came up with anything, the Twi'lek woman started again, "Please forgive me if I'm wrong, but are you the Jedi Knight called Bastila Shan?"

"Yes," Bastila stammared, "That's my name. And you are?"

"Snow," she replied, then amended, "Seno'vwannin."

"Well, I'm pleased to meet you, Jedi Knight Snow," Bastila replied stiffly. She could not sense Snow's intentions.

"Apprentice, actually," Snow corrected.

"Apprentice?" Bastila repeated, then scrutinized the woman before her. Although she as a poor judge of non-humans' ages, she felt certain that Snow was at least as old as she was. "How old are you, Snow?" she asked.

"Twenty-three," she replied.

"You are older than me and not yet a padawan," Bastila observed, reminding herself that she had only been knighted eight months ago.

"There seems to be a shortage of Jedi able to take on padawans these days," Snow replied with guarded neutrality, "and an even greater shortage of Jedi willing to take on a padawan who used to be a Sith."

"Then you must be one of the Korriban apprentices," Bastila realized.

Snow bowed her head in a slow nod.

"Can I ask why you joined me in sparring today?" Bastila asked.

Snow met her eyes, "I was watching you practice after our lesson finished and suddenly, the Force seemed to say to me, 'This woman understands you, and you understand her.' It wasn't so much my decision as much as the Force prompted me, and there I was in front of you."

"Understand me?" Bastila asked somewhat skeptically, but the Force nudged her, urging her to believe it was true.

A pack of noisy younglings poured into the gym after their teacher, each clambering for one of the blunt practice sticks.

"Do you have anywhere you need to be, Snow?" Bastila asked.

"No," she replied with a shake of her head, "Not until meditation at four."

"Then, walk with me," Bastila suggested, "We can talk for a while."

Snow said nothing in reply, but followed Bastila to the door.

They strolled slowly in the direction of the center of the temple, side by side.

"So, without having met me before," Bastila started, "you are supposed to understand me, and I am supposed to understand you."

"Trusting in the Force, yes," Snow replied then pause, "I may have an advantage to begin with, though. I read your biography, Bastila."

"My biography?" Bastila gaped, "I was not aware that I had one."

"The short biography that the HoloNet News network released after the destruction of the Star Forge, along with the bios of all of the other participants of your mission," Snow reminded her.

"Ah, that one," Bastila nodded. Although it had been short, Bastila remembered marveling at just how many details they had dug up on her.

"I think," Snow started slowly, "From what I read, we have some important things in common: both love and bitterness towards our parents, a feeling of being held back despite our accomplishments, and a nagging, no, consuming guilt for our falls to the Dark Side and all the things we did then, at least."

Bastila stared at her. That sort of analysis had not bee in her biography. "I think that's a good start," Bastila admitted, a little shaken.

"To be fair, I should tell you something about me," Snow replied, "As I don't have a biography of me floating around."

"If you don't mind," Bastila urged.

"I hope this doesn't get too long," Snow started, "It has been a while since I tried to put any of this into words.

"When I was about six years old, my family fell on hard times. My father, who I loved very much, worked hard to feed us all, but when my mother saw the chance to sell me for a high price, she took it. My own mother put me up for auction, and all the slavers bid furiously to have an albino little girl in their stock.

"I was bought and trained to dance. I was a natural at it and earned my first master lots of money when I was sold to an up-scale bar on Taris. I was passed around to a few different places until I was thirteen, when I was bought by a rich Tarisian to be a pleasure slave for his spoiled-rotten, do-nothing rancor of a son."

Color drained from Bastila's face as she listened. Snow left much unsaid, but the horrors of her early life could hardly be ignored.

"I'll spare you the details," Snow continued, "But I will say that he was as speciesist as any other rich, Telosian human. He treated me like an animal.

"He socialized with the Sith even before they came to Taris, and they quickly discovered that he was Force-sensitive. They invited him to Korriban to train to use those powers. When he went, instead of selling me off with the rest of his slaves, he decided to bring me along." Snow swallowed hard, then continued, "How I wanted him to sell me away with the others.

"On Korriban, not only did I have to put up with his abuse, but the abuse of his friends. One of them made a mistake, though. He noticed that I was also Force-sensitive and said so out loud, withing my hearing.

"From that night on, I did all I could to learn to use the Force, and finally, one night when I could take it no longer, I killed my master. When he was found dead in the morning, his friends came at me for revenge. I killed them too. I demanded that I be allowed to train as a Sith, and the academy accepted me, impressed by my ambition and brutality.

"But I was shunned by the others because of what I had been. Even Master Yuthura loathed me for it. I trained for years with every part of me. If others lashed out at me, I lashed back, usually leaving them maimed or dead. I became better than many who had started before me, but no Sith ever took me as an apprentice. I began to feel resentful and doubt the Sith. Their teachings and way of life seemed to be missing something. They were not the ultimate answer to what I craved. When I overheard Dustil and his friends planning their revolt, I joined in. For once, the fact that everyone ignored me came out to my benefit.

"Here, the Jedi avoid me to, but at least they try to be polite about it," she added with a shrug, "They can't understand that even though evil raised me and even controlled me for a while, I can't bear the memories of that time any more. I want to leave it all behind me, but my dark past haunts my every move."

Sensing Snow's narrative was finished, Bastila dared to speak again, "Is this common knowledge among your peers?"

"The other students from Korriban know that I was a slave at one time before I killed my master," Snow replied, "to the rest of the Jedi, I am just one of them, tainted with a dark past."

"Then why tell me?" Bastila asked, "We only just met."

Snow shrugged, "Because it seems like the Force wanted me to."

Bastila recalled how badly she needed someone to confide in only earlier that afternoon. Darkness was a heavy burden not easily escaped. "Do you feel better, having told me about all that?" Bastila asked.

Slowly, Snow nodded. "The who story isn't something that I have been able to tell anyone before. It feels like a start to getting free of my past."

"What else do you feel is left?" Bastila asked. She did not notice that she had, once again, fallen into the role of a teacher.

"I guess I'm still frustrated," Snow admitted with some difficulty, "I was the oldest, most skilled apprentice without a master on Korriban. And now it's the same thing all over again. Of course, I'm happy for Dustil, really. We all are. It's just..."

"You feel you deserve to become a padawan more than he does," Bastila finished for her.

Snow didn't deny it.

"I would be your master, if you would let me," the words flowed from Bastila's lips, surprising even her, "I am younger than you, but I have completed the training of a Jedi Knight."

"I would be honored, Bastila Shan," Snow replied.

_So, it's decided._ Bastila was awed by the abruptness of it all. "I will have to apply to the council to have it formalized," she explained, suddenly nervous at the prospect of all the responsibilities that would come with the commitment she had just made.

"Right," Snow nodded.

"What is your full name again?" Bastila asked.

"Seno'vwannin," she answered.

"How did you come by 'Snow' then?" Bastila asked.

"One of the Selkath couldn't pronounce my name and called me 'Snow' by mistake," she explained, "After that, it stuck."

"Well, I can't promise anything exciting for your training right away," Bastila admitted. "I am serving on the campaign planning committee as an adviser from the Jedi, due to my insight into the Sith."

"Still I think that would be interesting," Snow said firmly, "And I may be able to help, if it's perspective in the Sith they want. I was a Sith longer than you."

"First, the Council needs to approve," Bastila reminded her.

"Right," she nodded again. Seeing a chrono on the wall, she started, "Well, I'm due in the meditation hall soon. I should go. Thank you, Bastila."

"Thank you too," Bastila replied. They exchanged quick bows and Snow glided off towards her next class.

Despite the sudden new responsibility of taking on her first padawan, Bastila felt at peace. Rather than a burden, Bastila knew that snow would become the friend and confidante that she had been yearning for.


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8- A Fair Trade

The _Viridian_ touched down on the wide wooden landing platform amid the wroshyr canopy. Kionee cut the repulsor lifts and then the remainder of the flight support systems. The rumbles, hissings, and clicks of the ship diminished to a gentle hum.

"Well flown, as always, Mistress Kionee," Emtee complimented from the co-pilot's seat.

Kionee's attention was lost in the great woshyr boughs outside her ship. Ancient trees that defied imagination, the wroshyr were among the great natural wonders of the universe. Kionee was sure of it. Nearly anywhere else in the galaxy, a wooden landing platform like this one would be completely unheard-of; unstable and monstrously expensive. Here, wood was one of Kashyyyk's greatest resources, especially in the hands of talented Wookiee craftsmen.

Kionee was drawn back to reality by the sight of two tall Wookiees striding along the platform towards the _Viridian_.

"That would be our welcoming committee," Kionee murmured, unstrapping from her seat.

"Given their armaments," Emtee pointed out, "I would say those look more like spaceport guards to me."

"That's what I meant," Kionee shot back, but followed that with a laugh. "Let's go. I volunteered to re-open trade with Kashyyyk for a reason." She pulled her over-stuffed satchel out of the latched compartment by her seat then strode out of the cockpit, down the corridor, through the cargo hold, and down the loading ramp. One of the Wookiees already had a bowcaster trained at her. "Who are you and what is your business here?" the other barked. "We don't allowed intruders."

Emtee tottered down the ramp behind Kionee. "Oh man," he murmured.

"I am Kionee Rinnh, a representative of Rinnh Imports," Kionee replied evenly, despite how much she itched to side-step out of the scope of the wookiee's weapon. "I'm here to discuss the future of Rinnh Imports' trade relationship with Kashyyyk."

The Wookiee lowered his weapon. "Ah," he said, "Msssun told us to expect you. Come this way." In one smooth movement, he sling the bowcaster back over his shoulder and into its harness, the turned and started down the walkway.

"Follow him," the other Wookiee wuffed gruffly, "I will watch your ship."

"Uh, thanks," Kionee replied, then scurried after her guide, struggling to keep hip with his long strides. The abruptness of it all startled her.

MT-412 rapidly fell behind and did not catch up until they ran through a nest of kinraths. Kionee was only able to get off a few poorly aimed shots with her blaster before her Wookiee guide expertly cut them all down and started on his way again as if nothing had happened.

They traveled the rest of the way to Rwookrrorro in silence, but that suited Kionee just fine. She was engrossed in the sights and sounds of the forest around her. She could almost taste the life the enveloped her. Kashyyyk was more alive than nearly any other planet that she had ever visited. Ithor came close, but there was something wild and uncontainable about Kashyyyk that Ithor's careful beauty lacked. It was as if the towering trees and the cries of the birds and beasts of the forest were desperately reaching out to the stars and to the rest of the galaxy.

A small clan of taks dropped down onto the walkway ahead of them, cackling and hooting. Kionee's guide wuffed a warning at them, and with a curious glance at the towering Wookiee, they scurried across the platform, hands and feet slapping against the wood. With another backward glance at the Wookiee, girl, and droid, they swung over the side of the platform and into the shadows of the forest.

Kionee grinned. It was life like this—pervasive, thriving, and determined life—that almost gave her the shivers. So much of the galaxy had lost its touch with its wild roots after eons of evolution and development. To be bathed in life like this was refreshing.

These days, Kionee spent at least half of her life in hyperspace aboard the _Viridian_ with her mechanical companion, MT-412. Stops like these were the places she most looked forward to. She grinned even more broadly. "I love my job," she murmured.

After a few more twists of the Great Walkway, they arrived at Rwookrrorro. Kionee's guide gruffly announced her purpose to the pair of guards at the gate—or at least that's what she thought he said. Her knowledge of Shyriiwook was elementary at best. Even before the gate was fully open, Mission throttled out between the great wooden doors.

"Kionee!" she exclaimed and wrapped her in a waist-high hug.

"Mission!" Kionee chimed, stooping to hug her back. "It's so good to see you again! How are you doing here with the Wookiees?"

"Oh, I love it," Mission said, stepping back. "I'm learning a lot of new stuff, hanging out with Big Z and his family, and making myself useful here. It's great to see Zaalbar with his people, where he belongs. They really respect him. And they tread me real good too. Oh, hey Emtee," she gave a quick wave to the droid.

"Hello Mission Vao," MT-412 replied respectfully, "I am glad that you are well."

"Well, don't just stand there where the kinrath could get you," Mission urged abruptly, "Come on inside. I know you said your visit was gonna have to be short, so Zaalbar's got everybody ready at his place for you. Come on."

The guards let them all pass through the gate and their guide departed back down the walkway towards the small spaceport. Mission led them through the treetop village. It had changed, subtly, since Kionee's last visit before Czerka Corporation barred Rinnh Imports from trading with the Wookiees. The ever-present Czerka guards were gone along with any trace that they had ever been there. Though she was now the only human in the village, the Wookiees did not scowl at her as she passed. They eyed her with wariness in their eyes, but not the fear, mistrust, or even hatred she had grown accustomed to.

"That whole trunk full of houses is new," Mission narrated as they walked, waving towards the eastern edge of the village. "They put them up after Big Z got back and started trying to unify all the Wookiee tribes. It's for all the out-tribe Wookiees who want to live here or visit here to work with Zaalbar and his dad on this new government. It's amazing how fast Wookiees can build, and up in the trees! They even built me my own house, Twi'lek sized, behind Zaalbar's."

"It sounds like you really are getting on well here," Kionee observed.

"Yeah, the Wookiees really are great people," Mission agreed, "And I get to help them out. I know more about how things work in the rest of the galaxy than anybody else here. I'm an honorary member of the Kashyyyk Governance Council. The only non-Wookiee," she said proudly.

"That must be quite an honor," Emtee observed.

"You bet it is," Mission beamed, "I never thought I'd be so important on any planet. Oh, here we are." She steered them to front door of an impressive Wookiee bower. The front door and lintels were carved in dramatic patterns of trees and leaves. "This is Zaalbar's place," Mission exclaimed. Grasping the door handle, she twisted it and leaned hard against the door. Mission pushed it slowly open with her full weight.

Inside where six Wookiees sitting around a low—low by Wookiee standards—table. Zaalbar was at the center of them all.

"Here's Kionee, representing Rinnh Imports," Mission announced.

"Hi," Kionee said with a small wave to the Wookiees seated before her.

"Welcome back Kionee Rinnh," a Wookiee spoke, Emtee translating for her. It was not Zaalbar that welcomed her, however, but a burly Wookiee with clumps of black fur peppering his chocolaty brown coat.

"Krrarn," Kionee realized, "It's good to see you again."

"And I am glad to see that the Czerka interlopers did not permanently damage our trade relations with Rinnh Imports," the big Wookiee replied. Krrarn had always been Kionee's trade contact on this part of Kashyyyk until Czerka barred her entry. With the escalation in slave exports, Kionee had feared that brawny Krrarn would be among those shipped off-planet. She was relieved to find otherwise, though she would not bring it up to him.

"I am glad to see you again too, Kionee," Zaalbar said, rising from his wicker seat. "Welcome back to Kashyyyk."

"Thanks," she said, closing the distance between herself and the Wookiees with three long strides. She took Zaalbar's big paw in a firm handshake. "I'm always glad to come back here."

"Then we hope to see you a thousand times more," the Wookiee to Zaalbar's left said formally.

"Kionee, this is the council of trade and finance," Mission explained, "I guess you already know Krrarn. This is Shormoka from Wanwraal Village," she pointed to the Wookiee who had just spoken. Skipping over Zaalbar, she introduced the three Wookiees to his right, "And this is Taalwen, Erfokk, and Ancchyerr."

"Please, sit down," Zaalbar urged.

Kionee found a wicker stool behind her and settled down into it. Mission took a seat beside her and Emtee hovered over her shoulder, ever ready to translate. Finding all eyes on here, Kionee began, "So I'm here to re-negotiate trade relations with Kashyyyk on behalf of Rinnh Imports. I understand that you have recently been engineering a new form of global governance."

"It is a work in progress," Shormoka clarified.

"Well, anyway, your governance is at least different than what it was before our trade was interrupted by Czerka," Kionee continued. One or two of the Wookiees growled at the mention of that name. "So Rinnh Imports wants to re-negotiate with you on a completely blank slate. We support your reformation and we want to see you thrive."

"That is very generous of a galactic-wide corporation like Rinnh Imports," Erfokk observed with some distrust.

"Hey, I don't blame you for being suspicious," Kionee replied with a shrug, "But you can trust me when I say this: the head of Rinnh is my dad and he really does want to see you guys succeed. He really hates Czerka for what they did to you guys, and after meeting Zaalbar, he's determined to make supporting Kashyyyk one of his personal goals. That's part of the reason he sent me here. He know that I'll make sure you guys get a fair deal."

"And I trust Kionee," Zaalbar voiced, "She is an honest human."

Kionee pulled a small datapad out of one of her vest pockets and held it out towards Krrarn out of habit. He took it in his huge hands, making it seem little more than a toy. "This is what I've got to offer you today in my hold, as well as a database of our regularly supplied produce lines elsewhere in the galaxy, so you can make requests for the future," she explained. "What do you have for me today?"

"The samples," the Wookiee Ancchyerr reminded Mission sharply.

"Right," Mission bolted up from her chair. She returned momentarily from the next room, which Kionee guessed to be the kitchen, judging by the pleasant smells drifting out from the open doorway, carrying a lidded wicker basket in her arms. "Here," she said, placing it on the table in front of Kionee.

Kionee removed the lid and set it aside. The top-most piece was a massive seed cone, woody and oblong. She gave it a sharp shake and several pale, fleshy nuts clattered out onto the table. Picking one up she examined it closely.

"That seems to resemble a Corellian pine nut," Emtee observed.

Kionee nodded. "That's what I was thinking," she agreed, "Only much bigger." She turned her attention back to the Wookiees, who were all watching her with interest. "May I?" she asked, holding up the nut.

"Of course," Zaalbar replied. "These samples are for you."

She popped the nut into her mouth and crunched into it. It had the same mellow flavor as the smaller Corellian nuts but lacked some of the sweetness. She nodded thoughtfully as she munched. Swallowing, she asked, "So how much are you offering it to me for?"

"How much do you think is fair?" Zaalbar asked.

"Oh, come on," Kionee rolled her eyes, "If you ask me, I might demand a totally unfair price."

"But you would not, Kionee," Zaalbar observed, "You are an honest and generous trader."

"But others won't be so fair," Kionee pointed out sternly, "I don't want to spoil you, or you'll go soft and let yourselves be cheated all the time."

Zaalbar turned to the other Wookiees around him and began to chat in low wuffs and growls.

"Don't translate, Emtee," Kionee hissed at her droid even before he could start, "Give them their privacy."

"As you wish, Mistress Kionee," Emtee replied quietly.

The Wookiee's discussion died down almost too quickly. "How about fifty credits per kilo?" Zaalbar offered.

"You're just saying that because fifty is a nice round number," Kionee observed shrewdly. "If I were anyone other than me, I would take that offer and I would still be ripping out off. If you're going to protect your agricultural sector, you've got to do your research. You've got to know what similar products out there are, what the demand is, and what they're going for. That can all change week by week."

"We always traded at fixed prices before," Krrarn observed.

"That was because that's what you set up with your first trade deal, and Rinnh stuck by it because it was easy, and frankly, we were making money off of it," Kionee admitted. "You could do a lot better this time if you wanted to, but you're going to need someone like an Agricultural Minister, or even a whole committee to keep an eye on stuff like this. Or you could let trade like this be privatized."

"So, what do you suggest then?" Taalwen, the only female Wookiee present, implored her. From the look in her eyes, Kionee could see that she had gained the woman's trust.

"Let me have that," she held out her hand for the datapad she had given to Krrarn, who returned it to her. She bit her lip as she scrolled through the database, running numbers through her head. "If it were me," she said slowly, "I would push for seventy-six credits per kilo, and no less than seventy, for sure."

The Wookiees rumbled their surprise and exchanged encouraged looks.

"People like me will always try to barter for the best deal," she explained with a laugh, "It's part of our job. And most of them aren't as much of a pushover as I am." Turning the pad so that Mission and all of the Wookiees could see it, she continued, "See this? The closest thing I know of off the market to this nut of yours is the Corellian pine nut, as I said earlier. When you're trying to market something new to exporters, you should see if it compares to something that already exists. That would be helpful to you in that there isn't much of a Wookiee market off of Kashyyyk, so you don't have the home-sick population to sell to. You will mostly have to count on existing flavors to work your way into the galactic market. Novelty foods, no matter how much you love them here, will be a hard sell, unless you can get some press or some famous chef to do a special on them off-world. What is a delicacy here, you might not be able to sell for very much if no one knows what it is abroad. Stuff like that," she concluded and passed the datapad back to Krrarn.

"Keeping that in mind," Kionee continued, "I'm going to go through all your samples now, but I won't make you any offers until you've had more time to do your research and think it over. I'm here through tomorrow morning."

"Thank you for your fairness with us, Kionee Rinnh," Shormoka said earnestly.

"Like I said, I want to see you guys thrive," she shrugged.

"We appreciate it," Taalwen murmured her gratitude, "You treat us like intelligent sentients."

Kionee smiled then dug into the wicker basket again. One by one she examined each specimen, touching, smelling, and tasting. Asking the name of each, she took holo captures and jotted down notes as she went for Rinnh's database. There were fruit, vegetables, more nuts, edible flowers from the canopy, dried spices, and even bulbous roots dug up from the Shadowlands. She asked the Wookiees to describe how each was eaten and what it was usually prepared with. Less than half of what was presented to her in that basket was familiar from her earlier trades. The Wookiees clearly wanted to open up the way for more exports. Much of it, oddly enough, closely resembled plants she was familiar with elsewhere in the galaxy, only larger. There was so much variety in what this tiny region of the planet produced in edible foodstuff, it was almost as if Kashyyyk had been specially engineered as a giant garden.

When she was finished, she replaced the lid on the basket and straightened up on her stool. "Now, I'll give you more time to figure out what you'll offer me for all of those," Kionee started, "But let's talk imports now. What are you looking for from me?"

"We always enjoyed the selection of fruits Rinnh brought us before," Krrarn started, "Mooja, renji, and flemmit, in particular." Her old contact continued on a long list of trade goods they were looking for and even the quantities of each. This, at least, the Wookiees had thought out. She punched in more notes on her datapad.

"You're lucky," Kionee nodded when he finished, "In that I actually have a number of those things in my cargo hold, based on our previous deals. Now what do your current agricultural tariffs look like?"

"Tariffs?" Erfokk asked.

"Tariffs are how you protect your own products against cheap imports from other places," Mission piped in proudly. To Kionee, she added, "I've been doing my research."

Kionee nodded, "She's right. Take your kroak nuts for example." She held up the large conifer cone again and continued, "They are very similar to the Corellian pine nuts. Enough so that if someone wanted to, they could probably come in here and sell the little Corellian ones for cheaper, and then all your people who harvest kroak cones won't be able to compete with the foreign prices fairly. Tariffs help keep your domestic market competitive with your imported market, on equal or better footing."

"Oh, I see," Erfokk nodded thoughtfully.

"I take it you're going to need some more time to think on that too," Kionee observed.

Zaalbar exchanged a few looks with the rest of the council. "Can we make our deals tomorrow morning after we have time to talk tonight?" he asked.

"Of course," Kionee nodded, "I kind of expected that. That's why I've got a more flexible schedule for tomorrow."

"You call staying less than one full day flexible?" Mission accused.

"It's better than my usual schedule on any planet where I only have one point of contact," Kionee replied neutrally. "I'm just glad I get to stay as long as I do this time. I love Kashyyyk."

"Good," Mission said firmly, "Then you'll be back often."

"Well, if we're finished her for now," Ancchyerr started, "Let's break for dinner. I think it is ready by now. Thank you Kionee Rinnh."

"Just doing my job," she replied warmly. Inviting odors wafted from the kitchen, but Kionee was far from hungry, her stomach full of fruits and vegetables already from her samples. Of course she would have to stuff herself even fuller at the Wookiee dinner too. She really did love her job.

The Wookiees all began to stand up and move towards the kitchen for dinner. Kionee stood with them and was suddenly struck by just how tall the Wookiees were in close quarters. "Boy, do I ever feel short," she whispered to Mission.

"_You_ feel short?" Mission laughed. "How do you think I feel?"

"Tiny? Miniscule?" Kionee teased, "Though I think you have gotten taller since I saw you last."

"Doesn't feel like it with all of these guys around," Mission laughed again.

"I bet," Kionee grinned.

"How about after dinner we watch a holovid?" Mission suggested eagerly, as if she had been waiting the entire meeting just to broach the question. "I've got a holo projector set up at my place, but nobody around here appreciates good core flicks."

"That sounds great! Emtee isn't much of a movie watching buddy either," Kionee replied, "You know, I've got—"

"I don't have much of a selection though," Mission interrupted.

"I beat you to it," Kionee said proudly, pulling out a colorfully packaged holodisk from another one of her pockets. "I picked up Yvern Starsinger's newest film last time I was in the core. You seen it yet?"

"'Blue Coruscant'?" Mission practically jumped off the floor to take it from Kionee's hands. "I've been wanting to see this one since it came out!"

"It sounds like we've got a plan then," Kionee beamed.

"You should come back here more often," Mission said half-seriously, "Tell your dad that you want all the Kashyyyk runs."

"I'll see what I can do," Kionee replied with a smile, all the while knowing that she could never promise tying her self down to one planet.


	9. Chapter 9

Part 9- Cathar Memories

Juhani disembarked from her transport on a humid Cathar night. It was the first Cathar night her skin had tasted in twenty years. All around the make-shift spaceport were sounds, smells, and feelings that should have been familiar to her. Insects whirred in the whispering grasses. Nocturnal predators stirred and rattled out their evening song in the distance. A western wind carried warm sea air laden with moisture over the plains. Diamond-like stars twinkled in the sky between patches of wispy clouds that drifted across the heavens and veiled the waxing moon. Towering, bulbous home trees of Enos Village cast dim shadows in the moonlight.

Amid all this, only the rumbling of a transport ship shutting down and its rhythmically blinking wing lights were familiar to Juhani. She felt like an alien on her own world.

"I am," she breathed, "home."

"Good luck to you, Jedi," the mother of a young Cathar family she had been traveling with hailed her from across the grassy landing strip, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

_So do I. _Juhani called back, "I wish you luck as well in your new life, friends."

With only their hopes, their two children, and three suitcases of belongings, they would restart their lives on Cathar. The six other families on Juhani's transport were the same, all returning to their ancestral home with the hope that one day again Cathar would be a world worth mentioning with anything other than mourning.

Juhani was not here to make a life for herself. She was not here to stay.

"_Ev, you seem different somehow," Juhani observed, meeting her friend for the first time in nearly four months._

_Ev smiled and leaned back in her seat. "It's refreshing to hear you say that, Juhani," she replied. "I was beginning to wonder if I would ever get anywhere in conquering this."_

"_I am not sure I understand," Juhani admitted._

"_Some of the Masters seem to take pleasure from telling me how far I fall from being a true Jedi," Ev explained, "How dangerously I flirt with the Dark Side."_

_Juhani stiffened. "Anyone who can say such things about you, does not know the greatness in you," she spat, fur on the back of her neck rising in agitation, "How can they know what it is like to be in your position? You are already among the great Jedi for the darkness you have resisted!"_

_Ev held up a hand to silence her. Juhani felt ashamed even before Ev began to speak. "Watch it Juhani," she warned, "'Anger leads to the Dark Side'."_

"_'There is no passion...' I am sorry, Ev," Juhani apologized, "I just cannot see why the Jedi distrust you so much. If they knew you as I know you..."_

"_No," Ev countered calmly, "They really are right to be worried about anger. Anger _does_ lead to the Dark Side, Juhani. That much is clear through ages of the Jedi's history. And some days, I'm as angry as a Sith."_

"_You?" Juhani drew back in surprise, "No."_

"_I am," Ev asserted, nodding, "Maybe I bury it deeper than most. I have lots of practice. I've got plenty to be angry about, and it's dragging me down. It's ruining my focus, distorting my purpose, and tying me up in things that I aught to leave behind me for good."_

"_When I see you here," Juhani started, "I do not sense anger. I sense a calm in you I have not ever felt before."_

"_I've realized what it is I have to live for," Ev continued, "The friendship and love I have—but more than that, even, I tried out forgiveness."_

_Juhani stared at her, waiting for an explanation._

"_Forgiveness is the antidote to anger, not meditation and denial like so many Jedi claim," Ev explained, "If you can forgive, forget, and move on, your anger won't haunt you any more."_

"_So you have forgiven those you were angry at?" Juhani gathered._

"_Not completely," Ev admitted, "I've still got a long ways to go, but what you've said makes me think I must be making some progress. Juhani," Ev paused and put a hand on her shoulder, "You've got a history with anger as deep as mine, you deserve to free yourself from it. You have to find the real root of it all and start forgiving right there."_

_Even under Ev's soothing touch, thoughts of the Mandalorians made Juhani's blood boil. She clenched her fists so hard that her claws pinched the flesh of her palms. "How could I ever forgive the Mandalorians for what they did to my people? To my family?" she demanded._

"_You don't have to rage at me about Mandalorians," Ev laughed, but her tone was serious, "I have my own forgiveness battle with them too."_

"_But how could you forgive what they have done?" Juhani asked more calmly, rage still biting at the edge of her consciousness._

"_That's for you to figure out, Juhani," Ev replied, "It's your battle. But you've got to go to the heart of your anger and confront it at its source before you can forgive anyway."_

"_I," Juhani took a deep breath and relaxed her fists, "I will try."_

So here she was, hunting the source of her anger so that she could conquer it. Twenty years after the Mandalorians decimated her planet, Cathar still bore the scars of the slaughter that ripped her people apart and cast the survivors to the far reaches of the galaxy. The near-genocide of the Cathar could not be undone even in a few centuries. Empty skeletons of cities still wept for their dead. Abandoned home trees were home to only memories and wails of the past.

Juhani returned to Cathar to forgive the Mandalorians for all this.

She started into an easy trot towards the eastern horizon and the ocean. Juhani's memories of Almudena Village were few. She had been less than two years old when the Mandalorians forced her family to flee their home. All the same, it was to Almudena that Juhani knew she must go.

Jogging across the grassy plane, Juhani met no one. Only glow-bugs danced across her path, mimicking the bright stars overhead.

Juhani fell into a meditative mindset to the rhythm of her breathing and footfalls on the soft earth. She had once run barefoot through these very fields, playing with other Cathar children, her own kind. The Mandalorians ripped that from her. Her parents lived in exile, and she never again had the companionship of other young Cathar. The attack that sentenced countless of her fellows to death sentenced Juhani to the life of an outsider.

Here on Cathar, she felt just as much an outsider. She had neither Cathar family to share her life with nor Cathar friends to relate to. She hardly knew how to relate to other Cathar any more.

Feeling fatigue coming to her limbs, Juhani opened herself to the Force and let it flow through her muscles. The warmth of the Force coursing through her, she pushed herself even faster. For just a moment, she felt almost free as she practically flew over the plains. The smell of the sea air growing ever stronger and the wind whipping through her braids, Juhani let out a yowl of exhilaration.

She dashed up the crest of a hill and the ocean unfolded before her, dark and undulating under the setting moon. On its sandy shores, not far distant, was a dark cluster of home trees: her Almudena Village.

At the sight of it, empty and abandoned, Juhani's voice caught in her throat. She felt the Force go out of her as longing, despair, anger, nostalgia, and loneliness welled up inside her all at once. She stumbled down the hill, tears wetting her yellow eyes. At the base, she fell to her knees and wailed for all that had been lost that day the Mandalorians came.

So many Cathar died. So many. She and her parents survived, but was the life they lived a life worth living? On Taris, they were starved, abused, and ignored. Weakened and depressed, living lives of destruction, both her parents met an early end.

She may not remember it, but Juhani knew that in Almudena they had been respected. They had promising lives ahead of them. Juhani herself could be mated and raising a family right in that very village by now if it had not been for the Mandalorians.

But had it not been for the Mandalorians, she would never have met Revan—or Ev. Suddenly, she could not bear the thought of trading that friendship away for anything. It was the will of the Force that she should meet Revan, even if it meant her near brush with slavery. She would never have discovered her potential as a Jedi without that chance encounter that saved her future. It was the will of the Force that Ev, not remembering her past as Revan, should save here again, from the consuming Dark Side. The Mandalorian attacks on Cathar may not have been the will of the Force, but the Force worked in mysterious ways. Through a path of pain and tragedy, Juhani found her life and her calling. She found Ev. And she would follow Ev to the ends of the universe.

Juhani rose shakily to her feet and let the sea breeze envelop her, drying away her tears. Slowly, she plodded towards the coast and the shell of her childhood village.

She thought back to the last two years of her life.

In a fit of anger, she nearly killed her master Quatra. Descending to the Dark Side in a shallow fit of self-pity, Juhani stalked the outback of Dantooine, believing that she could never be saved. It did not take long for Ev to find her. Ev had compassion for her, even as Juhani tried to kill her. Fortunately and inevitably, Juhani failed. Ev gently and patiently talked her back to the Light Side and the Jedi. In the end, Quatra not only forgave her unconditionally, she had Juhani knighted as a full Jedi.

Then Juhani was given the privilege of traveling with Ev and the others on their quest for the Star Forge. Along the way, Ev pulled her back from the slippery slope of the Dark Side more than once. When, in the very temple of the Builders and under the shadow of the Star Forge, Ev turned on them for the Sith, Juhani's world almost shattered. She wanted to believe that it was all a clever ruse, but could not. In the end, her gut feeling proved to be true. Ev fooled the Sith, defeated Darth Malak, and brought about the destruction of the Star Forge.

Juhani would never doubt her again.

The others—Carth, Bastila, Mission, Zaalbar, Canderous, Jolee, and even that misfit pilot Kionee—taught her what friendship could truly be like. For all its ups and downs, the crew aboard the _Ebon Hawk_ was like her second family. She learned the value of trust from Carth. Zaalbar gave new meaning to the word honor. From Bastila she learned the danger of becoming too self-absorbed. Mission taught her not to doubt herself even in impossible situations. Jolee brought a lightheartedness and a different perspective to grave situations. Kionee's naivety and joy brought light to the darkest hours. Even Canderous the Mandalorian was not so bad.

At first Juhani hated him just for what he was. Canderous soon proved that his loyalty went deeper than a mercenary's bounty. Juhani could not see eye to eye with him on values and morals, but he fought for freedom and justice in the end. Although the old Mandalorian may not admit it, he could not support death and slaughter just for glory's sake any more. Juhani had watched that change in him as they traveled. Canderous was a Mandalorian, and Juhani could forgive him.

That was a start.

Juhani ambled through what was left of her childhood village. The home trees stood just as they had before the attack. Now they were overgrown, wild, and abandoned, but the trees stood straight and tall as ever. The Mandalorians never came to Almudena. Its people had fled long before the war front arrived. Almudena stood as an eerie testament to their terror on that day.

Passing through the village, Juhani stepped onto to the sandy shores on the other side. The eastern horizon began warming with tinges of pink. The waves licked gently at the sand as if nothing but peace had ever graced the ocean's shores. The ocean had a long memory. Surely it remembered those days.

Somewhere else along the shores of this very same shore, the Mandalorians had rounded up the remaining Cathar survivors. All were terrified and none were warriors, but Mandalorian spite would not let them live. Pushed farther and farther into the waters, they either drowned or were shot down in an attempt to escape.

More than ten years after that slaughter, Revan and Malak walked these shores. The ocean cried out to them and told its story. Through the Force, they saw a vision of that day and the horrors committed there on that beach. That was the day Revan took on her mask and vowed not to rest until the Mandalorians were defeated. Revan mourned and raged for Cathar. Juhani could see that Ev mourned and raged for it even now.

There was no going back on it. Cathar's fate was to lose terribly to the Mandalorians during that war. Now there was only to go forward. Slowly, with every re-immigrant family, Cathar was coming to life again. It did not need two Jedi brooding over its fate any more.

Juhani sighed and sat down on a tidal-smoothed rock. She stared out at the ocean and the horizon. Deeper hues of crimson and orange crept into the sky and danced on the waves.

Ev was right. She needed to move on. What was past was past. Her stomach still churned at the thought of what the Mandalorians did to her people here. She could forgive one Mandalorian, though, so she would have to learn to forgive more.

Juhani had friends to live for. She had the ideals of the Jedi Order to live up to. There was still a galaxy out there in turmoil, waiting to be healed. The Jedi were not only warriors, but healers and teachers as well. Her part in the Jedi Civil War was almost over. General Talorias promised her only one more tour with his company. The war was winding down and the Sith were all but defeated. The Mandalorians were long gone too. It was a battle she did not need to fight any more.

What was her purpose? Both Bastila and Ev had taken padawans. After all they had all experienced together in their quest for the Star Forge, they had much to pass on. Juhani thought about it, watching the sun rise over the ocean. The Selkath Shasa still did not have a master yet. Of all the Selkath students, Shasa did show the most promise, but also had the most questions. In an instant, Juhani decided. When she left for her next tour of duty, she would take Shasa along with her as her padawan. It was time to stop behaving like a lost padawan, leaning on Ev at every quandary. Juhani needed to step out and become the Jedi Knight she had always dreamed of.

And yet, Juhani knew she would always follow Ev in whatever cause she undertook.

Cathar's sun blazed over the horizon, glittering on the waves and on the sand. Not far north along the shore, morning lights began to illuminate a cluster of new home trees. Cathar families awoke to the dawn for another day of working towards the future. Juhani knew that one day again, Cathar would live up to its dreams again.

Deep down, Juhani knew that so would she.


	10. Chapter 10

Part 10- Missing the Kinrath

Jolee wandered.

Ever since he returned from the Illisurevimurasi Sector three days ago, he had been doing a lot of wandering. He wandered the great halls, admiring the artistry. Though, the immense pillars that so many admired only reminded him of how works by sentient hands can never compare to the wonders of nature. He missed the great wroshyr trees.

He wandered through the practice levels, though he rarely picked up a saber to practice himself. He watched the younglings practice, and even some of the not-so-young Jedi as well. He caught himself critiquing the holes in their form. "Since when did you become a saber instructor, Jolee?" he muttered to himself and moved on. "You've seen Ev and Juhani try to whip those Sith kids into shape. You don't have the patience for that, you old geezer."

He wandered down the long halls lined with meditation chambers, sensing whatever was on the air. He did not go into those either. Quiet meditation had never been Jolee's style. He was drawn to those halls because they felt so alive, packed tight with Jedi trying to figure out themselves, the Force, and the universe.

He wandered through the numerous temple gardens, admiring Nomi's handiwork. She really had done a fantastic job of livening up the stone and steel temple. All the same, the cute little gardens were nothing compared to the vast wildness of Kashyyyk.

He wandered through the mess halls, enjoying the smells and the chatter. Rowdy younglings did sound a little bit like restless tachs. _Crazy little monkeys, all of them._ In the mess halls, he did stop and snack a while. He appreciated the good food he did not have to cook himself and the variety of ingredients beyond what could be scavenged in the Shadowlands without unknowingly baiting a terentatek into your backyard.

He wandered through the library, occasionally popping a holodisk into his reader. Jolee remembered being in awe of the vastness of the Jedi library as a child, but now it seemed no more special than any other place in the huge Jedi Temple. So much of what was housed in the library was history—history he had lived through himself or read about as a youngling. Current reports on the war with the Sith did interest him, though. Now that the war was winding down, there were few of those to be had. What few there were, Jolee had to fight for them with younglings who were all a little too excited about war.

He wandered through the medical ward, sometimes offering a hand. There was usually not much need for a hobbyist healer like himself among all the dedicated Jedi Healers of the temple.

Jolee left the temple and wandered the neighborhood around it. He had already found some not-so-shady dives where a Jedi could get some not-so-shady food and drinks and be left to himself.

As he wandered the residential halls, he almost caught two apprentices in the middle of a prank. The pair of boys scurried along the corridor, giggling and huddled together over a can of vibroblade grease, "We'll put this on the bottom of Jogy's boots before saber practice. Then we'll really see some fancy footwork!" Jolee could have caught them. He did not want to. He only wished he could be there to see the result on their unfortunate victim. Half of him wanted to call up Visto Cafran and suggest that they put grease on the bottom of Atris' boots, but Visto was on the other side of the planet mediating discussions or some-such. Official Jedi business. Besides, they were getting to old for mischief like that.

Even so, the idea of Atris slipping down a long set of stairs and landing on her bottom, perfect white robes in a knot, did make Jolee snicker gleefully. Maybe he would have to tell Visto about that one anyway. Who said they needed to act on it?

He wandered through the center section of the temple with half a mind to go down to the saber practice level to see if he could catch the spectacular results of those boys' prank. Suddenly, he felt a familiar intense knot of anger descending rapidly through the temple. _No,_ he corrected himself, _an angry person coming down that lift, probably from the council chambers. _He could bet he knew just who it was.

A mellow ding sounded and the lift doors slid open. Ev stomped off looking as angry as he had ever seen her.

Jolee lengthened his stride to catch up with her. "You look like you've been talking with the Jedi Council again," he observed, teasing.

Ev turned to him and stopped. "Oh, Jolee. I just—argh!" she fumed and threw her hands into the air.

"That bad, huh?" Jolee asked.

"Jolee, you know that there are hardly a hundred of us left after this war," she started vehemently, "The Sith may as well have won for what they did to the Jedi Order. Anyway, I was looking at the numbers, the current Jedi census, and there are easily twice as many apprentices as Jedi. Half those Jedi already have padawans, so we're talking a couple hundred kids who don't have a chance at ever getting a master, even if the older padawans get knighted right now and take a padawan of their own immediately. What are we going to do? Ship off all these perfectly capable kids, the future of the broken Jedi Order, to agricorps?"

"Give more than one padawan to each master, like we did in the good old days," Jolee suggested.

"That's what I said!" Ev exclaimed, exasperated. "I keep thinking about all those Korriban and Manaan kids that we brought in. They're all great kids, working hard with the honest dream of becoming a Jedi to atone for what they almost became. But, as it stands now, they don't stand a chance of ever getting picked as a Padawan."

"I bet Atris is still giving her 'It was through flawed teaching styles like this that so many students fell to the Dark Side during the Great Sith War' katarn dung now, isn't she?" Jolee was all too familiar with frustrations along that line from another old friend of his.

"Atris and half the council!" Ev spat. "How can they continue like they've been doing and expect the Jedi Order to recover?"

"It sounds like a lot of trusting-in-the-Force-instead-of-actually-doing-something hooey," Jolee asserted.

Ev looked over her shoulder at the lift doors. "Great, they're coming down," she groaned, "I'm going to go take a shower. See you later, Jolee." She was gone even before Jolee could say his own goodbyes.

"Young people these days," Jolee grumbled out of habit, "Always rushing from one place together."

Ev was right. Moments later, the doors of the second lift slid open with another pleasant ding.

Vrook Lamar, the old Gotal Kronn Hakkes, Atris, both Nomi and Vima Sunrider, and a Bimm woman in sunny yellow robes that he didn't recognize strode importantly off the lift.

Still standing directly in their path, Jolee could not help himself. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear you lot get some pleasure out of giving Ev a hard time," he said with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

"Well, Bindo, I am glad you know better," Atris cut back coolly. She moved to walk around him, but Jolee side-stepped into her path.

"You all lecture her on keeping her anger under control," he continued, feeling the momentum building, "And then you get her hopping mad every time you chat with her. Have a little sensitivity to a woman's needs!"

"What she needs is a little more sensitivity to her own needs and not to those issues which she has no business getting into," Master Hakkes pronounced gruffly and brushed by Jolee.

"Maybe she's right about a few things. Admit it," Jolee baited.

"That may be true, but those are not the issues we are concerned about, Knight Bindo," Atris snapped and finally got around him. As she swept away down the hall, Jolee seriously considered grease on her boots for the second time that afternoon.

"At least listen to her once in a while," Jolee demanded, "She's sharp as lightsaber, that one. She was Revan, for Ossus' sake!"

"And that is exactly why we must carefully weigh everything she says," Vrook said, still standing in the doorway of the lift. "You know as well as we do what she was."

"And what she could become if you gave her space," Jolee shot back.

"Exactly," Vrook replied and turned to go.

"We must trust in the Force to guide us through this difficult situation," the Bimm said calmly, following after Vrook.

"I've seen Wookiees make better arguments than that!" Jolee declared, "And I don't mean the threatening and roaring kind."

"You are hre supporter, Jolee Bindo," Vrook turned and added, "and that makes you blind to her dangers. Ev cannot be trusted."

"You're as bad as Carth!" Jolee exclaimed, glaring at their backs as they retreated. "Worse, even!"

As soon as the Jedi Masters were out of ear-shot, Vima and Nomi burst out in stifled laughter.

Jolee turned on them. "What?" he asked sharply, but he was already grinning.

"I would say, 'you as bad as Jolee Bindo,' but I realize that I am finally presented with the genuine article," Nomi laughed, eyes dancing.

"I see how it is," Jolee laughed.

"Good for you," Vima commended, "Some of the Jedi on the council need their feathers ruffled now and then."

"It really has been too long, Jolee," Nomi said warmly, walking to his side. "We missed you here. Wise-cracks aside, your moral compass has never once wavered."

"Don't get fancy on me, Nomi," Jolee warned, "That's just some way of telling me that I'm right about Ev, isn't it?"

She nodded lips pursed.

"It's good to hear that at least someone on the council is thinking sense," Jolee muttered.

"Not everyone agrees on everything these days," Vima said quietly. Thankfully there were few near by to overhear her. "These are difficult times."

"Jolee, I have been so busy since you returned," Nomi admitted, "We should catch up some time."

"How about this afternoon? I'll buy you a drink," Jolee offered mischievously.

"Jolee!" Nomi exclaimed, slapping him playfully on the shoulder.

Vima giggled.

"No, I'm serious," Jolee replied defensively, "I know of this half-way-decent dive called Goodvalor's Little Bivoli a couple blocks from the temple."

"That restaurant owned by the Snivvian war hero?" Vima asked.

"You know what?" Nomi started, a smile playing across her finely wrinkled face, "I will make time. Vima, can you handle that lecture on outer-rim diplomacy for me this afternoon?"

"Sure," she nodded, "I have nearly as much experience in that as you do, Mother."

"Well then," Nomi grinned, "You and I have a date, Jolee."

"I still can't get over seeing you as the Grandmaster, Nomi," Jolee said. The two elderly Jedi sat together at a small table in the back corner of Goodvalor's Little Bivoli. Jedi always received first-class service here. There were already drinks and some finger chips set out on the table for them.

"Jolee, I was elevated to that position not long after you left the Order," Nomi pointed out.

"Huh," Jolee nodded and took a gulp of his drink, "That would make you one of the youngest Grandmasters in history. I always knew you had great stuff in you."

"One of the youngest, yes," she nodded. "And now I am Grandmaster for life. Sometimes I don't think I am cut out for it, though."

"Aw, come on," Jolee joshed, "With the Force on your side and your good looks, it can't be so hard keeping reigns on all us Jedi."

Nomi leaned back in her chair and took a long swallow of her Corellian Bombshell Sunrise. "These are hard times, Jolee," she said slowly, "The Jedi Order is broken into pieces. Aside from those that left us for the Sith, there are factions among the Jedi; conservative and more liberal. Public opinion of us is so low, that we may as well be Sith ourselves. Are numbers are down lower than they have been in countless centuries and we are in danger of dying out if something does not change soon. I have ideas, but putting them in motion is more difficult than it should be."

"You're the kriffing Grandmaster of the Jedi Order," Jolee pointed out, "How is it that you can't get your stuff done?"

"The factions," Nomi started. She took a bite of one of the fried potatoes and chewed thoughtfully. "I can guide the council to a decision, but I cannot overrule a negative vote myself. Too many of the long term members of the council are afraid of change."

"As the whole galaxy is changing right beneath their noses!" Jolee said.

"We will do what we must, in one way or another, to adapt," Nomi promised, "The Council meets almost every day now."

"Don't let all this responsibility eat you alive, Nomi," Jolee urged sincerely.

Nomi cracked a smile. "I promise," she replied, "I won't. I have been through far worse. What have you been up to anyway, Jolee?"

"Shouldn't the Grandmaster know where she sends her Jedi?" Jolee teased.

Nomi laughed, "You know I can't keep track of all the Jedi, even with so few of us left. Though I am ashamed to say that I cannot even keep close track of an old friend like yourself."

"Well, since I got back from the campaign in the llisurevimurasi Sector, I've been doing a whole lot of nothing," Jolee complained. "Now that we've got Mirilal back, there's not much left for me to do."

"I thought you would like a bit of relaxing after being at the front for so long," Nomi said innocently, her eyes dancing, "Especially at your age."

"Sure, call the geezer a geezer," Jolee shot back in good humor, "You, old lady, are only five years younger than I, if my deteriorating noggin is remembering everything right."

Nomi laughed again, "I think you're right."

"Any jobs coming up that you need a cranky old Jedi like me for?" Jolee asked.

"You could take a padawan," Nomi suggested.

"That's not what I meant," Jolee replied dryly.

"I know," Nomi shrugged, "But it is a job that needs to be done. We have too many children to train, as I'm sure Ev told you."

"Why don't you take one?" Jolee asked pointedly.

"I intended to, and soon," Nomi said firmly. "After Ev's display today, I want to set an example for the Council and other Jedi in the order who do not currently have a padawan to train. She is right. It really is vital that we train up all of our students to ready them for the rough future we have ahead of us as an Order."

"Stop looking at me like that," Jolee said and irritably stuffed several more finger chips into his mouth.

"Jolee, I'm serious," Nomi pressed, "You really should take a padawan."

"You don't want that any more than I do," Jolee retorted, "I'd ruin them with my crazy talking and un-Jedi-like ideas. _That_ is something I'm too old for. I don't want to keel over and die before I finish training them. I finish what I start, dammit, so I won't start something I can't finish."

Nomi sat back in her chair and sighed. "You just don't want kids around disturbing your routine," she observed.

"And that too," he nodded firmly, unyielding.

"Fine," Nomi submitted, "I know you can't be made to do anything you don't want to."

"Not a Mon Cal's chance on Tatooine," Jolee shot back, stubbornly but fondly.

"That is, unless a certain former Sith Lord entreats you," Nomi hummed with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Don't go there, Nomi," Jolee shot back, "That's damned manipulation! That's what it is."

"I know she could get you to do it," Nomi let the threat hang. She ventured, "Then what do you want to do now?"

"I want to get out of here and do something useful," Jolee replied, "There's too many people, too many Jedi, too much noise."

"The few military tours that are still in progress yet have already been assigned to Jedi Guardians with a little more youth and combat strategy experience than you," Nomi started.

"There you go, calling me a wrinkly old geezer again," Jolee teased.

"You and me both, Jolee," Nomi laughed. "Old Consulars like us have no business being at the front any more."

"Unless they need your Battle Meditation again," Jolee pointed out.

"Bastila is more than capable of filling that role for me for now," Nomi asserted.

"Just don't tell her that," Jolee warned, half-jokingly, "That spitfire has enough ego issues as it is."

"That brings to mind," Nomi paused thoughtfully, "Jolee, did you ever have any training as a Watchman?"

"No," Jolee replied curtly.

"Do you think you could handle being one?" Nomi asked, "The war has put us in a bind for Jedi Watchmen. So many have died or been pulled elsewhere for more active duties."

"Where are you talking?" Jolee asked, sitting up straighter.

"I don't think we have anyone in the are of the Mytaranor sector," Nomi replied thoughtfully.

"Mytaranor," Jolee echoed. Then it hit him, "You sly felinx! That's Kashyyyk's sector!"

"Along with Trandosha, Chamble, and Ota, among others," Nomi nodded.

"Not a pretty bunch," Jolee commented.

"Because we are stretched so thin, you could be called on to assist in the neighboring sectors as well," Nomi added. "That is, if you accept."

"Accept? Of course I do!" Jolee slammed his fist on the table jubilantly. The dishes rattled.

"I will have to bring it to the Council, of course," Nomi warned him, "But I doubt there will be many objections to any reason sending you away from the temple."

Jolee laughed heartily. "I owe you another one, Nomi," he said.

"You took me out for my first drink since this never-ending war started," she replied, "Call it even."


	11. Chapter 11

Part 11- Restoration Beings

"Prepare for arrival at Coruscant."

"Reverting to realspace in five, four, three, two, one."

"Engage the rear thrusters."

"Engaging rear thrusters."

The _Sojourn _snapped out of hyperspace in the heart of the Republic. The great, glittering sphere of Coruscant loomed large in the bridge's viewports. Innumerable ships, skyhooks, stations, and satellites ringed the planet.

"Your orders, sir?" the helmsman called.

"Bring her in to planetary mid-level orbit and decrease to standard orbital speed," Admiral Carth Onasi ordered.

"Sir!" the helmsman acknowledged and began to carry out his orders.

"There she is, Admiral," Lieutenant Krov said with pride. "How does it feel to back home to Coruscant?"

_Headquarters, not home,_ Carth corrected internally. "It's a relief, Krov," Carth replied, staring out at the night side of the planet ahead. "I've been on tour pretty constantly since the start of this war, and the Mandalorian Wars before that. It always feels good to see Coruscant again."

"I know what you mean, sir," his ever-present lieutenant replied, "Coruscant brings leave."

"Once the system and hardware checks are complete, you may begin the leave cycles," Carth ordered.

"Yes sir," Krov nodded curtly, "Will that be all?"

"Admiral Onasi," the bridge communications officer called, "You are being hailed from the surface by a Jerol Onasi."

"Put it through to my private terminal," he ordered.

"Yes sir."

He strode towards his terminal while telling Lieutenant Krov, "Remind the men that we are on standby for reassignment."

"Understood, sir," Krov saluted and strode off.

Carth sat down heavily behind his terminal and punched the comm receiver button. _What could the Acting High Governor of Telos want with me now? _A blueish holoprojection of the Govenor's head and shoulders appeared over Carth's console. "Your Honor," Carth greeted him.

"Good morning Admiral Onasi," Jerol began brightly. Something about him seemed much lighter than when Carth had seen him last, almost a year ago. "Congratulations on another successful campaign."

"Thank you, Your Honor," Carth replied politely, more than a little baffled by the governor's call. "What can I do for you?"

"I asked the navy headquarters to put me through to you because I have an invitation for you," Jerol explained, "I would like to invite you to join me in the Telos senate box for this afternoon's session. If you are not otherwise engaged, that is."

Carth has planned to have dinner with Ev and Dustil, but he could not refuse an invitation from the governor of his planet. "I am honored to, Governor Onasi," he replied with a nod.

"I am glad, Carth," Jerol brightened further, "Today's vote is a historic one and I will be glad to have you there observing it with me."

"Thank you, sir," Carth tripped over his tongue. He still had no idea what this was all about.

"I will meet you in the northwestern valet hangar of the Republic Senate complex at half past noon," Jerol instructed.

"Yes, I will see you there, Your Honor," Carth replied, stunned.

"Thank you again, Admiral Onasi," Jerol said, "I look forward to seeing you soon."

The holoprojection flickered off.

"Great," Carth murmured. Now he had to find his dress uniform—and cancel his date with his wife and son. One just did not turn down a personal invitation to the senate like this, from the governor of one's own planet.

Carth docked the _Ebon Hawk_ in the valet hangar as instructed. He hesitantly handed it over to the valet pilot and disembarked. He never trusted valets to treat his ships as well as he did.

Outside, he glanced around the carpeted landing for Jerol Onasi, but before could find the governor, a news reporter spotted him.

"Here comes the war hero, Admiral Carth Onasi," the Twi'lek woman spouted to her hovering camera droid.

Before Carth could escape, she was in front of him, pointing a microphone at his face. "Admiral Onasi," she began brightly, "Are you here to watch the historic voting today?"

"I believe I am," Carth nodded, trying not to look confused. _What's so historic that they're voting on today?_

"As a Telosian survivor, you must be thrilled that the proposal for the Telos Restoration Project has made it this far," the Twi'lek reporter continued.

_Telos Restoration Project? Force! This means they're actually going to rebuild Telos! No wonder Jerol was so happy today. _"Thrilled? I'm ecstatic," Carth beamed as it hit him, "This is the best thing I've heard since 'Malak is dead.' This will go a long way in remembering all of the Telosians who died during the war."

"Do you think, Admiral, that restoration projects like this on other systems such as Taris or Duro will follow if the project is approved?" the reporter asked.

"I hope so," Carth replied, "I'm a military man, so I don't know much about what it takes to get restoration projects like this off the ground, but every planet decimated by the Mandalorians or the Sith deserved a chance to be restored in peace."

"Well said," the reporter nodded, "Thank you for your time, Admiral Onasi." She turned to the camera droid and concluded, "This was Seranaya Emm, live from the Galactic Senate. I will have more on the pending TRP vote as the afternoon progresses."

"There you are, Carth," Jerol Onasi said as he strode over to Carth, the hem of his long, orange senate coat fluttering in the breeze. "That was well said."

"Thank you, Your Honor," Carth bowed to him.

"Come, I will take you to our senate box," he invited.

Walking side-by-side with the governor Carth, Jerol led the way through the circular halls, stairs, and lifts to the twenty-fourth floor where the Telos pod had its access point.

"I didn't realize that today was the vote to restore Telos," Carth admitted.

"Where have you been, Carth?" Jerol almost laughed. "It has been all over the news."

"Fighting the Sith out at Daalang," Carth replied, "I have been in hyperspace for the last four days. The _Sojourn_ had just arrived outside Coruscant when you hailed."

"Ah, my apologies," Jerol said, bowing his head, "I should have explained it to you then. After all of our lobbying and proposals, it is finally going to the Senate."

"You seem optimistic that the bill will pass," Carth observed.

"We have a lot of sympathy," Jerol explained, nodding, "So many other systems hope to be restored as well. They see Telos as a chance to prove that a planet can be restored and livable again. If Telos succeeds, other systems will follow. The Telos Restoration Project is an expensive investment, but it is one that many have placed their hopes of success in. We already have the promise of a full partnership with Ithor to guide the operations."

"No one knows growing ecosystems better than the Ithorians," Carth whistled appreciatively.

"You are right about that," Jerol agreed. "Ah, here we are." He steered Carth down a short set of stairs and onto what at first appeared to be a small, rounded balcony.

Although Carth had seen news holos of the Galactic Senate hundreds of times, this was his first visit to the senate himself. The Telos senate box was located relatively near the bottom of a conical hall with thousands of similar pods spiraling all the way up to the top at least two hundred stories higher. It was far more massive in person than any of the holos had made it seem. Carth stared out at it in awe.

"One of the more spectacular feats of modern engineering that has been put together in the last hundred years," Jerol said with approval.

"You bet it is," Cart agreed. The pods were filling up with colorful humans and aliens, some so far above that they appeared to be nothing more than colorful insects.

"I hear rumors that there are plans to put repulsorlifts on all of these so that they can detach and float around while senators make their points," Jerol informed him.

Carth tried to imagine it. "That sounds like an accident waiting to happen," Carth observed.

"I suspect that is why it has not bee enacted yet," Jerol agreed, "That and the current state of the Republic's budget."

"The budget should be well enough off to give us our restoration project, however," a sturdy-looking woman in her fifties said, entering the senate box behind Carth and Jerol.

"Senator Andreya Millax, good afternoon," Jerol beamed, "This is Admiral Carth Onasi of the fame of the Battle of the Star Forge."

"Admiral Onasi, good to meet you at last," she beamed. Her smile was at least as broad as Jerol's as she took Carth's hand and shook it lightly. She was dressed in an opulent orange velvet robe with voluminous sleeves over a cream silk dress. Her short, light brown hair was twisted into improbable shapes and held in place by a number of gold clasps bejeweled with more orange gems.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Senator," Carth replied. He wondered just how she managed to maintain such a extravagant wardrobe with her fortune destroyed on Telos, like any other Telosian.

A smaller woman followed the senator in, wearing a simple but elegant dress suit in more muted tones of burnt orange. "This is my assistant, Elya Peraggi," Andreya introduced her, "She is mute."

"Nice to meet you, Elya," Carth said, but when Elya did not offer her hand to be shaken, Carth performed a slight bow. He felt suddenly self-conscious in his green navy formals standing among three Telosians all declaring their love for their planet in Telosian orange.

"I am so glad you could join us, Admiral Onasi," Andreya admitted, "Your role in making this possible, cannot be overlooked."

"I beg your pardon, Senator," Carth started to protest, "But I didn't even know about this vote until today."

"But you bravely faced the Sith on the front lines of the war," she argued fluidly, "By your efforts, the Sith are defeated and Telos has a chance to rebuild. As the most prominent Telosian in the war effort, you make a powerful figurehead for hope and success."

"And it is because of our gratitude to you that we want you to be present here today," Jerol concluded for her.

"I really am honored," Carth repeated. "I hope this turns out as well as you expect."

"Ah, here comes the Supreme Chancellor," Andreya observed.

Carth followed her gaze over the edge of their balcony. Rising up on a huge pillar from the floor of the senate chamber below came Supreme Chancellor Cressa flanked by his two aides. As he rose higher and higher, past the Telosian box, a hush began to fall on the senate from the bottom up.

"Take a seat, please," Andreya urged quietly.

Carth, Jerol, and the senator's assistant seated themselves on the plush seats along the back of the pod while Andreya herself perched on a stool at the front center, in front of a small control panel and holo display.

The chancellor's pod came to a stop at about half the full height of the senate chamber. Almost immediately, the holo screen at the front of their pod lit up with an view of the chancellor. Carth strained to see it around Andreya's massive sleeves.

"People of the Republic," he began, "We begin today with our vote on the Telos Restoration Project proposal. Although we have already debated in length on this, we will hear any last thoughts on the issue before taking it to vote." Glancing down for a moment, he announced, "The chair recognizes the senator from the planet of Iridonia."

The screen abruptly switched to the head and shoulders of a pale Zabrak.

"People of the Republic," he began, deep, smooth baritone reverberating through the hall, "I speak to remind you of the precariousness of our situation now. While we are greatly scaling back our efforts against the Sith, the war is not over, and still could go on for some time. As good as this project may make us feel, it is a distraction from the more important issues we still have at hand for our fragile republic.

"The proposed Telos Restoration Project is a risky experiment, at best. Restorations of this scale have never been attempted before. For a project of such a magnitude, we should invest in proven techniques before we sign over our treasury to an untried and likely unsuccessful endeavor.

"I propose instead, we should work towards galactic recovery in other ways. Invest in recovery programs for our returned soldiers. Develop resettlement plans for those whose words were decimated by this war.

"The Republic's grasp on recovery is tenuous. We do not have the resources now to invest in such a great risk as the Telos Restoration Project," the Zabrak senator concluded, "Thank you."

"Thank you Senator Krem-Olen," Chancellor Cressa nodded, "Now the chair recognizes the Acting Senator of Telos."

Senator Millax was already standing proudly, ready to speak. "Thank you, Chancellor Cressa," she began pleasantly. "You have all heard me speak many times on this proposal, but today I bring you the Acting High Governor of Telos, Jerol Onasi."

Jerol stood and replaced her at the front of the pod. Carth glimpsed himself on the holo screen and made an effort to appear genuinely engaged and hopeful.

"Senators, People of the Republic," Jerol began eloquently, "I speak to you not as a man of a devastated planet but as a man of a devastated galaxy. Worlds still lie in ruins from the Mandalorian wars. Although Telos may have been one of the first planets to feel the utter destruction of the Sith, it was far from the last. The silenced cries of my people foreshadowed the innumerable voices to cry out through this war.

"As the first to fall to the Sith, let Telos be a symbol and an example of recovery. Senator Krem-Olen speaks of unproven ecosystem recovery techniques. Let us prove them! The Ithorians have pledged their commitment to this project, and I have never seen them fail before. This will be a long process, but what we will learn from Telos's restoration will be well worth the effort. Let Telos's healing be the forerunner of galactic-wide healing. Let Telos live again." With a curt nod, Jerol stepped back away from the mic and sat back down next to Carth again.

"Thank you Acting High Governor Onasi," Chancellor Cressa nodded. "If there are no other points to be made, let the voting begin."

No other senators submitted to speak.

A low murmur sprouted up, up and down the senate chamber as the voting started.

"Well done, Your Honor," Carth complimented.

"Thank you," he smiled back, "But please call me Jerol, Carth."

Carth chuckled, "Yes, Jerol."

"I hope that this will not be our last chance to discuss Telos's recovery," Jerol said.

"I would enjoy that," Carth agreed modestly. As a soldier, he never imagined himself becoming friends with the High Governor of his planet. "But as you have seen, I am kept very busy by my duty with the Republic Navy."

"I have requested," Jerol began slowly, "that you be assigned to the Telos Restoration Project as our military adviser and commander."

Carth was stunned for the second time that day. "Again, I'm honored," he managed to murmur.

"As I have said, you are a powerful figurehead, Carth, and you are a competent and resourceful man," Jerol complimented him.

"All ballots are in," one of the chancellor's aides announced.

"My, that was quick," Senator Andreya commented.

"The vote is decided seventy-eight to twenty-two percent in favor of the proposed Telos Restoration Project."

Carth was on his feet with a triumphant fist in the air. "Yes!" he whooped.

Beside him, Jerol grinned and clapped more subduedly. All the same, every inch of him glowed with satisfaction.

The Telosians were not the only ones cheering either. A significant part of the senate celebrated with them. It was a victory of hope for the Republic.

Grinning, Jerol turned to Carth. "Finally you and I will get a chance to give our wives the memorial they deserve," he said and patted Carth on the shoulder. "We are going to get our planet back."

Carth felt his comlink buzz at his hip. Pulling it out of its holster, he scanned the brief page he received from the Navy Headquarters, 'Report tomorrow at 8:00 standard for reassignment.' His grin broadened as he stowed the comlink away again. "Well Jerol, it looks like you and I might be working together for a while to come," he said.

"Good to hear, Carth," Jerol beamed. "Welcome to the Telos Restoration Project."


	12. Chapter 12

Part 12- One Pilot to Another

Kionee parked the _Viridian _in the residential hangar and, leaving her ship in the capable hands of MT-412, descended the lift to her father's flat. She tapped her feet absently to the lift's jazzy jizz music. Alone in the lift, her gaze fell on her own reflection in the mirrors that wrapped around three sides of the lift chamber.

Tall and blond with light green eyes, Kionee hardly looked her age. She feared that she would never grow into her overly-broad shoulders. Her clothes were far from fashionable as well: a pocket-bedecked flight vest over a simple collared shirt, sleeves bunched up around her elbows, and a pair of pants decked out with even more pockets. She looked like a pilot, not a young woman. Kionee sometimes wished that there was a better balance between style and practicality in flight wear. Not that she tried improving her wardrobe very often. Looking at herself, Kionee scrunched up her face in a frown. She had a reddening pimple coming in on her chin. _Serves me right for not hitting the 'fresher in transit from Anaxes. _She sighed. _I'll never be as pretty as Laurel or Roshind._

Just before Kionee had made the jump to Coruscant, Roshind called her to gush and celebrate that the other Nubian in her dueling circle on Corellia had finally asked her out, after months of mooning over him. Having heard Roshind's account of every little detail in the development of that relationship in the last half-year, Kionee was delighted for her sister.

And yet, she suddenly realized how lonely she really was.

"You'll never find anyone, Kinnie, if you don't settle down somewhere," Roshind had teased her, "Or at least slow up, for once."

Maybe true, but Kionee did not want to settle down. What would she do? It was a pilot's life for her. Her brother Cash had met his fiance at a random spaceport stop. Who was to say that she could not do the same? Still, that did nothing to stop her from feeling lonely. She was glad to have her dad to visit for a few days on Coruscant. He always had a spare bedroom ready to accommodate any of his children coming to visit.

The lift slowed to a stop and the doors slid open with a gentle hiss. Kionee's ears popped at the change in pressure. She stepped out, leaving the calm jizz music behind her. Walking along the curving corridor, Kionee came to the door of her father's flat and keyed in the passcode.

The door slid open and Kionee hear her father talking with another man inside.

"It really is a sign of recovery. I'm glad to see us heading in that direction, as a republic, for once in a long while."

"It has been one major war after another. I would like to see this peace last."

Kionee skirted through the entryway and towards the guest room, doing her best not to disturb them.

"You're not worried about your career?"

"Not with my new position with the Telos Restoration Project. And besides, soldiers all want peace just as much as anyone else. Probably more so."

The guest's voice suddenly struck a chord with Kionee. She veered her course and burst into the sitting room. Carth Onasi sat stiff as a soldier on the blue divan couch across from her father, who lounged cross-legged in his favorite arm chair.

"Kionee, you made it back," Gad exclaimed warmly and bounded up from his seat. He crossed the room in three long strides and wrapped Kionee in a tight hug. He released her and stepped back. "Look who stopped in to say hello."

"Carth," Kionee started, a bit surprised, "How are you doing?" She had no idea that Carth and her father were friends now.

"Just fine," Carth replied, "And yourself?"

Gad moved back to his armchair and Kionee sat herself next to Carth on the couch, sitting almost as stiffly in his presence. "Oh, I've been fine," Kionee answered awkwardly, "Pretty busy, as usual." _What's Carth doing here anyway?_

"Your father was telling me that you have been back to Kashyyyk recently," Carth commented. "How does it all look now?"

"Yeah," Kionee replied, "Zaalbar and Mission are doing great things there. The Wookiees are really starting to organize, but they still have a long ways to go. So, what have you been up to lately." The last time they had met had to have been the victory celebration about a year ago.

"I have been chasing the Sith from one arm of the galaxy to the other," Carth answered, "Thankfully, that's over for me now. I have been assigned as military adviser to the Telos Restoration Project."

"Oh right," Kionee exclaimed, "I saw you on the news the other night, in the senate. You must be so happy."

Carth cracked a smile. "I am," he affirmed, "I never thought I'd be going home again, or that I'd have a chance to play such a substantial part in its restoration."

"Wow, congratulations," Kionee marveled. Carth really was a great man, even if he didn't seem to realize it himself.

"Actually, I came here hoping to talk to you about that," Carth shifted the conversation.

"About Telos?" Kionee asked.

"Carth here called me yesterday at the office, looking for you," Gad explained brightly, "I told him I could do one better than the _Viridian's_ info. I could get him to you in person. It really is your lucky week, Carth."

Carth laughed politely. "You're right it is," he agreed, "Anyway, Kionee, I already talked to your father about this, but I know I promised to look out for some kind of job you might like."

"Oh, you didn't have to worry about me," Kionee protested quickly.

"The Telos Restoration Project is going to need a fleet of good, trustworthy pilots," Carth continued, "to bring the new plants and wildlife to Telos from other planets. You're exactly the sort of responsible, adaptive pilot we would be looking for."

"And the _Viridian_ is already pretty well outfitted for carrying cargo like that," her father pointed out encouragingly.

"Uh, wow," Kionee stammered. She had never thought of doing anything like that. "I know the project means a lot to you..." she began slowly, not sure where to go next.

"I'm not asking you to do this for me, Kionee," Carth assured her, "I'm offering it to you as an opportunity to try something different, if you want."

"I couldn't leave Rinnh imports," Kionee protested automatically.

"You don't need to stay with the family business your whole life, you know," her father pointed out.

"But I'm so established in my routes, with my clients," Kionee made excuses.

"I have hundreds of other pilots at my disposal, Kionee," Gad reminded her, "Many of them have worked with your contacts before. The only delicate contact I'm not quite ready to hand over to anyone else yet is in Rwookrrorro."

"Well, I guess I really can't—" she started.

"But there's no reason you can't still manage Kashyyyk's trades and try out the job Mister Onasi here is offering," Gad interrupted.

"I—I—" Kionee stammered.

"Due to the difficult nature of your cargo, you would get an increase in pay from Rinnh Imports," Carth promised.

"I don't know..." Kionee murmured.

"Think of this as another chance for an adventure, Kionee," Gad urged, "Think what a cannok in your hold would look like."

"Cannoks?" Kionee asked, wrinkling her nose at the idea of those ugly predators in the belly of her _Viridian._

Carth nodded. "Onderon is one of the worlds in the running for a source ecosystem," he explained. "Some others are Ithor itself, Felucia, Rodia, or even Kashyyyk."

"Those really are all gorgeous worlds," Kionee said approvingly.

"A lot is still up in the air still," Carth qualified, "But I wanted to invite you as soon as I had a chance. It will take at least several more months to set up operations on Telos and ready the planet for a new ecosystem."

By shipping for TRP, Kionee could help in breathing new life into a dead planet, all-but-destroyed by the Sith. She remembered the day Telos fell. She remembered the heartbreak of yearning to do something—anything to help those people on that planet. Had she gone numb to that feeling in her promise to stay out of the war with the Sith? There were still millions of homeless Telosians, heartsick and homesick, waiting to return home. Kionee felt a twinge in her own chest, thinking about it. "You know what?" Kionee started again with renewed vision, "I'll give it a go, as long as I can still work part-time with Rinnh Imports."

Both Carth and Gad smiled, satisfied with her decision.

"I'm glad to have you aboard, Kionee," Carth said, "I can send you a contract as soon as we have a timeline for when freighters like you will be needed. What is the best way for me to get a hold of you?"

"You could hail me on the _Viridian,_" Kionee thought out loud, "But I spent an awful lot of time in hyperspace. Probably passing on a message through Dad is the best way to make sure I get it."

"Got it," Carth nodded. He glanced at his chrono and winced. "I hate to run off on you already, but I have an appointment in the senate district in an hour."

"Then we won't hold you any more," Kionee said apologetically.

"You won't join us for dinner?" Gad invited good-naturedly.

"Thanks, but I really can't," Carth replied, standing. "It was good to see you Kionee, Gad. I will be in contact with you when I know more. I look forward to working with you."

"Thanks for thinking of me," Kionee said. _He has a lot of more important things to be thinking about._

"And thank you for stopping by," Gad added, standing to see him off, "Feel free to drop in again some time."

"I will, thanks," Carth said and raised his hand in a quick wave before heading for the door. He let himself out without another word.

Gad sat down again and smiled fondly at his daughter.

"You think I made the right decision?" Kionee asked.

"I expected no less from you," he replied.

"I just can't leave Rinnh Imports," Kionee explained, as if he did not already understand how she felt.

"You know," her dad pointed out, "you don't have to stay with Rinnh all your life. Just because this is my dream doesn't mean that it has to be yours."

"I know, but..." Kionee started weakly. She never had a good answer when the conversation turned this way.

"Sometimes I worry about you, kid," Gad admitted, "You lock yourself into this job without giving yourself the room to dream for yourself. I'm glad you took that new job, if only part-time. I know there's more up in that noggin of yours than a simple pilot-for-life. You've just got to find out what it is, and you're not going to do that by doing the same thing you've always been doing."

Kionee looked down at her shoes uncomfortably. "I know, Dad," she murmured. "And I do want to do this, after all."

"Good," he said firmly, "Now, perk up. I've made enough nerf and corn casserole for the both of us to eat that we'll still have enough left-overs for Emtee to stare at."

Kionee grinned, "I love you, Dad. It's good to be back."

"I love you too, sweetie," he beamed.


	13. Chapter 13

Part 13- A Mandalorian Without Armor

_Mandalorian Neo Crusaders swarmed all around her. She had three of her best Jedi at her back; Bryony, Ferroh, and Malak. The odds were overwhelming. Any other Jedi would feel death and oneness with the Force drawing imminently closer, but she was the Revanchist. Nothing was impossible. Death could not touch her._

_The four Revanchists beat their way forward and she was at the head of it all. Seen through the narrow slits of a helmet, the army of Mandalorian warriors hardly seemed to be a threat. They would win the day against these war-hungry bucket-heads once again._

_Then why was she so afraid?_

_There had to be some reason for that feeling that haunted her..._

Ev woke drenched in a cold sweat. She was dreaming again. But Ev was not fool enough to believe that these were just dreams. Unlike the visions of the star maps that Bastila had desperately fished for through their bond, these visions were rising up on their own. Whatever the Jedi masters had done to her was beginning to wear thin. Ev was remembering.

Ev peeled her sheets off her body and sat up stiffly in bed. It was morning, but she felt exhausted, as if she truly had been fighting for her life all night long.

The dream visions always left her feeling like this. She couldn't will them to happen and she couldn't will them not to happen. They came when they would and left her with little more than frustrating snippets of her past.

All the same, they were occurring with increasing frequency these days, as often as twice a week. Usually, they had to do with one war another, but there were always vital pieces missing. Occasionally a vision of her childhood on Dantooine would flash by in her sleep. Even in those visions, Ev could still feel the weight of her own destiny hang heavily over her every move like a dense fog. All of the visions were frustratingly disjointed, blurred at the edges.

It all seemed so disconnected from one dream to the next. There was one feeling, however, that tied them all together: fear. The Revanchist was afraid. Revan knew there was something terrible behind the Mandalorians, but she could not pinpoint just what.

She did not dare speak of these visions with anyone, not even Bastila or Carth. It would only worry them. Ev was glad that Bastila was making efforts to narrow their connection. She would hate for Bastila to share these dreams with her now.

Ev sighed and swung her legs over the edge of a bed. She may feel like an industrial construction droid had just run her over, but she still had the day to face and Dustil to train. A cold shower and a hot cup of caff would wake her up enough to be functional.

Dragging one food after the other, Ev crossed the room, slung a lose robe over her shoulders for a bit more decency, and grabbed a towel. She slothed out into the corridor and headed for the 'freshers.

As she trudged up to the first corner, suddenly a bronzed assassin droid leaped out into attack position with a blaster rifle pointed at her. "Exclamation: Ah ha!"

"HK," Ev slurred blearily.

"Query: Did I startle you this time, Master?" HK-47 asked hopefully, lowering the weapon and straightening up.

"It's too early to startle me," Ev replied flatly.

"Query: But is it too early for you to defend yourself?" HK asked and made a sudden lunge at her.

Ev instantly drew in the Force and side-stepped easily, faster than the battle-honed droid could strike, and with a casual flip of her right hand, Force-shoved the droid back against the wall, his metal feet screeching against the stone floor.

"Observation: It appears not. I cannot defeat you, Master, even in the morning," HK-47 concluded as he righted himself a again, somewhat disappointed.

"Good," Ev replied irritably, "I'm your maker after all." It was an amazing concession that the Jedi let her keep HK-47 around. The droid was an antithesis to nearly everything they stood for. Ev managed to keep him entertained by challenges like these and encouraging him to patrol the area surrounding the Jedi Temple, looking for anything suspicious.

"Statement: I saw someone you might be interested in these last few days," HK-47 teased her with minimal facts.

Ev did not give him the satisfaction of knowing it bothered her. "Oh?" she asked, shifting her weight from one bare foot to the other.

"Statement: That Mandalorian is hanging around again," HK-47 admitted.

"Canderous," Ev nodded. Somehow, her drowsy head made a connection between Canderous and her most recent dream. Logic couldn't explain the draw, but suddenly she knew she had to go see him. "HK, I have an idea. Come with me."

"Acquiescence: Yes Master," HK replied and followed Ev back into her room.

While moments before, Ev's mind had been muddled and cloudy, now her braid clicked methodically through her newly-formed plans. "I'm going to see Canderous," she stated, "Where was he hanging around?"

"Admonition: Sneaking out of the Temple again, now, Master?" HK mock-scolded.

"HK," Ev retorted impatiently and crossed her arms, "I asked a question."

"Statement: That you did, Master, and I will answer it," HK recited evenly, "Response: He was last sighted two hours ago in a seedy cantina by the name of 'Jumper Plug' on level four hundred twenty-seven, two blocks east of the Jedi Temple."

"Thank you, HK," Ev nodded. It was the same area she had seen Canderous in the last three times they had met. "And now I have a new assignment for you. While I'm out, I need you to stay here and pretend to be me so no one notices that I'm gone."

"Statement: Go away! I hate mornings!" HK's vocal pitch was so close to Ev's that it was uncanny. He switched back to his usual voice, "Query: How was that, Master?"

"Just fine, if you would drop the 'statement' tag," Ev suppressed a laugh.

"Explanation: I was programmed this way, Master," HK explained wearily. "Supposition: You could change that, Master, if you so chose."

"Probably," Ev replied, "But not this morning, anyway. I've got to run if I don't want anyone to notice that I've gone."

"Request: Please do hurry back, Master. I shall be terribly bored remaining in your room all morning," HK whined.

Ev snorted but did not reply. She took her quick trip to the 'fresher then dressed in Coruscanti street clothes before taking her usual winding route through the little-used climate control maintenance tunnel and sneaked out of the Jedi Temple.

Using public lifts and walkways, Ev descended several levels. No one gave her any second glances as she sifted through the crowd. She enjoyed the anonymity of the Coruscant streets. She never carried her lightsabers when she went out. She did not need them. Even if she ran into any unsavory situations, Ev knew at least a hundred other ways to get herself out of trouble without the use of her Jedi weapons. Without them or her Jedi robes, Ev was indistinguishable from any other Coruscanti citizen.

Within ten minutes, Ev arrived at the Jumper Plug. HK was right in calling it seedy. The aromas that seeped out were not the sort to make a human feel hungry; rather the opposite. Ev hoped that those particular smells were appetizing to at least some kind of alien. Even the lights were dim at this time in the morning. Ev wondered if the Rodian collapsed over the table in the dingy back corner was dead or just asleep. Neither would surprise her in this place.

Stepping just to the doorway but not inside, Ev scanned the cantina. Canderous was not inside. That did not surprise her either. It had already been three hours since HK had spotted him. He could not have gone far, however.

Ev crossed to the other side of the pedestrian walkway and released the breath she had been holding. The walkway was busy at this time of the morning, but not crowded. It was enough for her to get lost in but not bumped into as she closed her eyes and reached out with the Force through all the buzzing life around her. Each person had its own spark and destination, but only one in the immediate area was familiar to her: Canderous. She found him.

Ev opened her eyes again and turned back the way she had come. Half a block away was a tap caff called The Jolly Mando. Its sign showed a yellow-armored Neo Crusader cheerfully holding out a mug of caff on a china saucer. Ev shook her head. _No one would stand for that even five years ago. It's amazing how fast the public forgets the terror of their enemies. I wonder how Canderous stands it._

Ev did not need to look inside to know that Canderous was already there, sipping at his own caff. She walked straight in and to the counter.

"Whath can I geth you?" the Rodian in a neat apron behind the counter asked.

"Give me the regular Jolly, black, and an order of flat cakes," Ev requested decisively.

"Thath will be sikth crediths," she replied and punched in Ev's order.

Ev dug into her hip pouch and produced the required credits. She handed them over and took a mug of caff from the cashier in exchange. "Your flath cakes will be broughth tho you shorthly," she explained.

Ev nodded and walked with her mug—the same sunny yellow color as the armor of Cassus Fett—directly towards Canderous' small table by the window. He was already staring, bemused, at her.

"May I join you?" she asked him, a twinkle in her eye.

"Have a seat, Ev. All I have to do is skulk around this area for a night and you're here having breakfast with me in the morning," Canderous observed. "I don't know how you do it."

"It's HK-47," Ev explained, taking her seat and letting her mug fall heavily onto the table. "I keep him busy prowling the temple district and looking for anything suspicious."

"I'm suspicious then, am I?" Canderous asked ruefully over his plate of biscuits and gravy.

"I don't know," Ev shrugged, but there was still that mischievous glint in her eyes. "What is a Mandalorian doing skulking around the Jedi Temple? Selling caff?"

"Ha," Canderous barked.

"So what have you been up to?" Ev asked after a sip of her caff. "Thinking about me again?"

Canderous chuckled, "You don't think I would come to hang out in this area for my own reasons?"

Ev narrowed her eyes and stared intensely at Canderous for a moment, reaching out and searching for his motives. "No," she replied plainly, and sat back in her chair.

"I can't fool you, can I?" Canderous cracked a slight smile.

"No, you really can't," Ev parried back, "But you already know that."

"Here are your flat cakes ma'am," a serving droid wheeled over and deposited the steaming plate onto the table in front of Ev.

"Thank you," she told the droid and immediately dug into the stack of flat cakes with her fork. She looked intensely at Canderous again and asked, "So, what's on your mind."

"Next week will be a year from the day you killed Malak," Canderous observed.

"Yeah," Ev agreed between bites, "That kriffing Bothan from the Chancellor's office keeps trying to get me to make some big appearance and encouraging speech at the one-year anniversary."

"Will you?" Canderous asked.

"Not if I can get Bastila or Juhani to do it," Ev shook her head. "Now that I've gotten out of the public's eye, I want to stay out."

"I don't blame you," Canderous agreed.

"So?" Ev asked, but when Canderous did not explain himself further, she added, "Have you gotten a steady job yet?"

"Krekk Lompson, the Iridonian Exchange boss of this part of Coruscant hired me to bash around some trouble-makers and collect debts," Canderous answered indifferently.

"Like what you used to do for Davik on Taris," Ev observed, "I thought you hated that."

"I need to do something to pay the bills," Canderous said with a shrug, but Ev detected restless unhappiness beneath the veneer of indifference. "And he pays me even better than Davik did."

"Does he know you killed Davik on Taris and stole his ship?" Ev asked pointedly.

"Yeah," he nodded, "And that's why he's paying me so much. I never thought I'd say this, but he's rewarding me for acts of dishonor, and I don't like it."

"So now you see what a bunch of dishonorable scum-bags the Exchange is run by," Ev said.

"It's not that I didn't before," Canderous qualified, "But I like it a whole lot less now."

"You really aren't meant for this life, Canderous," Ev replied.

"What else can a Mandalorian do in this day and age?" Canderous demanded, his quiet frustration rising, "Sell caff?" He trust his hand indignantly in direction of the Jolly Mando sign. "And why did Carth get the ship anyway? I stole her for you."

"He's my husband, that's why," Ev replied shortly with an eyebrow raised in challenge.

Canderous sighed and leaned back in his seat, "Sometimes I envy that man."

"Don't go there, Canderous," Ev warned icily.

"Hey, only sometimes," he chuckled, but Ev could see that he was unnerved by her steely glare. _Good._ "What have the Jedi been keeping you busy with lately?" Canderous asked, deflecting the conversation.

"Not much," Ev admitted with a shrug. "I took Carth's son as my padawan, so now most of my time is taken up with training him."

"Now, I thought the Jedi were so few that they would need every last one out on some mission or another, cleaning up the mess left by your war," Canderous supposed, "Especially Jedi like you."

Ev wondered just what he meant by 'your war,' but she kept that to herself. "You would think," she replied dryly. "In essence, they don't trust me and they're not letting me out of their sight."

"Rough," Canderous sympathized tersely, "And stupid." He paused, then stared directly at her, saying, "You and I aren't made for peace times."

"No, we aren't," Ev agreed, "But we have one."

"Do they think you're going to remember what it was like to be Darth Revan and switch sides again?" Canderous asked.

"They fear that," Ev nodded, "yes."

"Do you remember any?" he asked pointedly.

With Canderous sitting in front of her, Ev could not lie to him or to his honor. When it came down to it, she had no reason to. Canderous would not fear her or worry about her. It was almost as if he expected this as a part of who she was.

Reflexively, she reached out with the Force to see if anyone from the Temple was trailing her or if someone was paying undue attention to her and Canderous. There was nothing.

In a low voice, she finally answered, "I have been dreaming."

"Dreaming about memories?" Canderous asked.

"Yes," Ev nodded gravely, "But only bits and pieces. It is more frustrating than it is illuminating, though I am beginning to understand what it felt like to be Revan."

"Good," Canderous said firmly, "I'm glad that the Jedi did not destroy the best strategist of our age. It's good to know you're still in there."

"Did we ever fight on the same battlefield, Canderous?" Ev asked. It was a question she could have asked many times before, but did not really want to know the answer until now.

"I wouldn't be alive if we had," he answered with a chuckle.

"Fair," Ev nodded. Ev tried to remember her dream from that night, but it oozed and slipped from her mental grasp. "Can I ask you something, Canderous?" Ev asked.

"You can ask. I will probably answer," Canderous replied, "What do you want to know?"

"Why did the Mandalorian Clans really go to war?" Ev asked, "Every memory I can recall is shadowed by a fear of something greater and more sinister than just the clans."

"Like they say," Canderous explained, "It was a test of our might, a chance to prove our glory in battle." He could see Ev was not satisfied. "But I doubt Mandalore would have mobilized all the clans like he did without urging from the Sith," he added quietly after checking to see that no one was listening in.

"The Sith," Ev caught her breath. The wave of cold, numbing, and yet mobilizing fear that caught her in that moment mirrored the nagging feelings she always had in her dreams. "But that doesn't make any sense. Revan's Sith did not exist yet at the time of the start of your war. And Exar Kun's Sith were wiped out. Besides, they were just a bunch of Tetan brats overly interested in the arcane and a couple of Force ghosts of ancient, long-dead Sith Lords."

"Don't look at me," Canderous shrugged, "All I know is that the Sith were involved. Whoever they were, they invited Mandalore to attack the Outer Rim and the Republic, and it was a challenge he took to prove our honor."

"They why doesn't the galaxy know about this already?" Ev asked.

"Only top ranking Mandalorians knew that Mandalore the Ultimate had anything to do with the Sith," Canderous replied, "Mandalore was the ultimate authority. He would loose respect if the clans suspected he was taking orders from someone else. I only heard Cassus Fett mention it just the once."

"Huh," Ev nodded. The cold fear gripped at hear heart again. "Then that means that there are other Sith still out there, separate from Revan and Malak's Sith. The Galaxy is not out of danger yet."

"But they're quiet, aren't they?" Canderous observed.

"The quiet threats are the most dangerous ones," Ev asserted quietly. She took a sip of her caff. It was beginning to get cold.

Canderous watched her and started to smile. "I can see you're thinking," he observed.

"There has to be someone closer to Mandalore who would know more about his connection to the Sith," Ev thought out loud.

"You're looking at probably one of the highest ranking Mandalorians that survived past Malachor V," Canderous pointed out.

Ev sighed, but she was already filled with a new resolve. Until she disproved the existence of Mandalore's Sith, they were a threat to the Republic. In that moment, she knew that she would not truly rest again until that threat was eliminated.

If the Sith struck now, the Republic would be obliterated. Battle weary, broken, and off-guard, the Republic was in no condition to fight off another enemy. Nor were the Jedi. There were just too few and the leadership was too bogged down by tradition and in-fighting. There was no strength left in the galaxy. Even the Mandalorians were scattered and gone from the plays of power.

A thought struck her. "Then why don't you bring the clans back together?" Ev asked.

"Reunite the clans?" Canderous asked. "Why should I?"

"Because Revan is asking you to," Ev replied, fixing her dark gaze on him. She knew Canderous could not refuse such a request from Revan herself. She continued, "Because I have a feeling that there is still a danger lurking out there and that it could rip the galaxy to bits. Because the Mandalorians really are a great force and may be the only hope for the galaxy when the time comes. Because Mandalorians are not meant to be mercenaries and thugs. They are meant to be warriors."

Canderous stared at her skeptically. "Why would they listen to me?" he asked, "I was just fighting on the side of the Republic. That is the kind of news that got around fast, even if I didn't go on your glitzy victory tour."

"Because you were all over the publicity material," Ev replied, "If they didn't know who you were beforehand, now they do. Even bad press, as you would call it, is publicity."

"First Revan destroys the Mandalorian clans by taking Mandalore's helmet and denying us our leader," Canderous muttered, "And now she asks me to reunite the clans again. Without a Mandalore, it will be almost impossible, and without Mandalore's mask, a new Mandalore cannot be chosen."

"That, I can work on," Ev promised. "But will you do it?"

"I'll think about it," Canderous replied elusively, but she knew he had already decided.

"You do that," Ev nodded. "And now I have to get back to the Temple before someone realizes that that's HK in my room and not me taking a lazy morning."

Canderous chuckled. "You know how to find me," he replied.

Ev stood, draining her mug of cold caff then slamming the cup down onto the table. Without another word, she turned and left.

Canderous remained behind, deep in thought.


	14. Chapter 14

Part 14- Names of the Dead

Carth woke before dawn. A near lifetime of military schedules had long since trained him out of sleeping in. Even at this hour, speeders whizzed past his apartment, casting shifting lines on the wall through the slitted window shades as they passed by.

But that was a whole world away. Inside his room, all was silent and calm. The only sound outside the beating of his own heart was the soft breathing of his wife beside him. He rolled over onto his side and gazed at her beautiful, serene form. In moments like these, Carth was able to forget that Ev was anything more than just that: his wife, the woman he loved.

He had cherished these few weeks of leave and followed by meetings with the Telos Restoration Project Council on Coruscant. It allowed him and Ev more time together than either had hoped for when they first decided to marry. That would soon change. Although he had not received the order yet, Carth knew he would soon be taking the _Sojourn_ to Telos for a very long assignment.

Carth resisted the urge to pull Ev into his arms and ignore the rapidly approaching morning. He had to be ready to meet with the TRP council in a scant few hours and Ev had to return to the Jedi Temple before anyone noticed she was gone. He rolled out of bed and padded across the soft carpet to the 'fresher for a nice, long shower.

When he came out again, Ev was awake and sitting before his computer terminal, wrapped hap-haphazardly in a sheet. Seeing him in only a towel, Ev neither smiled nor flirted like she usually did. Her eyes were glued to the screen. She flicked her gaze up at him and said, "You left yourself logged in last night."

Carth moved behind her to see what had her so transfixed. Lines of text zipped down the terminal faster than he could read them. "What's this?" he asked. What could Ev want access to that she could not get without his level of security clearance?

"I am compiling a list of all the known deaths from this war; military, Sith, and civilian," Ev replied quietly. Her voice seemed so small.

"There must be millions," Carth marveled.

"No Carth," she countered and met his gaze. "There are trillions." Never since meeting Ev aboard the _Endar Spire_ had Carth seen such a look of despair in her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm happy as a tak on a log here," Jolee said. A projection of his blue-ish colored bust hovered over Ev's comm terminal. "They've got me set up in a special 'human-sized' guest lodge. It's almost like they're back to thinking I'm some forest god or something."

Ev laughed, "I bet you miss your hole under that log down in the Shadowlands."

Jolee chuckled dryly. "I went back down there, you know," he said, "and I had to shoo a nest of kinrath out of my living room. There wasn't much left worth moving up here."

"But you had to see it," Ev observed.

"I had to see it to be sure that leaving that nice cozy place wasn't the dumbest thing I've done this half of the century," Jolee snorted.

"And?" Ev asked.

"And now I'm the Jedi Watchman of this sector," Jolee deflected the question, "It's like they're saying, 'Jolee, if you're going to hang out in the woods like some crazy hermit, you might as well be useful.' They're sending me off to check on a conflict on Trandosha at the end of this week. Now that's got to be messy."

"Have fun," Ev laughed, "I'm sure it's not anything you can't handle. At least Trandoshans don't pull people's arms out of their sockets when they get angry."

"But they do have a nasty bite when you get 'em mad," Jolee countered.

"Nothing you can't handle," Ev repeated with a grin.

"The things you get me into," Jolee shook his head. "Now, I know this isn't just a pleasure call. You said you had something to ask me about, so ask me. I'm a very busy Jedi."

"Sure you are," Ev snorted.

"Well?" Jolee asked, "I might just keel over and expire here waiting for you to come to the point."

"Right," Ev nodded, then jumped into the real reason for her call, "Jolee, I was wondering just how much you knew about me as Revan, or even before that."

"I thought you should be able to do better math than that," Jolee retorted, "By the time you were Revanchist-ing around the galaxy like some justice-possessed crusader, I was crashed and happily burrowed under my log."

"And before then?" she pressed, disappointed by Jolee's unwillingness to help.

"I left the Jedi Order before you were born, kiddo," Jolee shot back. "I knew your face and your voice because I did see it on the HoloNet before my generator ran dry down there in the Shadowlands and I gave up on depressing news. I never forget a face."

"Right," Ev sat back with a sigh. Another dead-end.

"Didn't give you want I want, did I?" Jolee observed.

"It's just, it seems like the Jedi have purged practically everything about me from the archives," Ev complained. "I have to know more about my past and about the wars."

"Oh, they never throw anything away. They've probably got it locked up in some top-secret private library of theirs," Jolee said disdainfully, "Now they start pretending like history is dangerous. You might do better by looking at other archives. The University of Coruscant, for one. Carth could probably get you into the navy archives too. There might even be some old Jedi that were actually around when you were growing up who aren't as stuffy as that Vrook Lamar."

"Thanks Jolee," Ev nodded. It was not as if she had not thought of all of those ideas before herself, but it was refreshing to have someone talk straight to her.

"If that's it," Jolee said, "Freyyr is calling."

"Yeah, that's it," Ev nodded, "Thanks Jolee. Take care of yourself."

"I'll let the Force do that for me," Jolee replied with a crooked smile and signed off.

Ev trailed behind Carth through the Republic Navy Headquarters at a respectful distance. Only a few heads turned at the passage of a Jedi through the halls. Ev, for her part, wore the most generic Jedi robes she could find. Contrary to the complaints and observations of many, Ev did own a couple sets of boring, brown Jedi robes. Now, she wore them to look every bit the harmless, studious Jedi she hoped to come across as.

Ev and Carth exchanged few words on their tour through the navy headquarters other than an occasional, "This way."

Finally, they found the archives, tucked away in a back corner. It was a tightly-packed, insufficiently-lit hall with high, vaulted ceilings. Cataloger droids hovered and zipped down the narrow aisles between towering shelves of holodisk records. Directly in front of the doorway Ev and Carth entered through sat a middle-aged man in a crisp lieutenant's uniform. A neatly pressed sleeve hung loosely off his left shoulder where his arm once had been. His right arm was fully functional, however, and he saluted them with it.

"What can I do for you, Admiral?" he asked, seeing Carth's uniform.

"This is Jedi Knight Ev Pell," Carth explained and Ev stepped forward to the desk. "She is conducting research on the Revanchist and her group's involvement in the last two wars."

"The Jedi Archives have tragically lost much of their material on the Revanchist," Ev added, hoping that the lieutenant was not the hero-worshiping sort that would recognize her face from all of the publicity materials of a year ago. "So I have been forced to take my research elsewhere."

"I see," he nodded.

"I have granted her full clearance up to my level," Carth added.

"I see," the archivist said again. He leaned over and punched a combination into the key pad of a spherical cataloger droid that sat on the table beside him. With a quick beep, it sprung up off the table and unfolded a pair of spindly arms from its body. "QR-4M13 will assist you in finding what you need," he explained, "You will find the private reading rooms in the back of the archives, Jedi Knight Pell. Will that be all, Admiral Onasi?"

"Yes, thank you," Carth nodded. Turning to Ev, he added, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thank you, Admiral," Ev replied curtly, keeping her face blank.

Carth wished he knew just what it was that she so desperately wanted to find out.

Like every morning, Ev guided Dustil through lightsaber exercises. Now, they used live sabers almost every day, and almost always used both of hers against him. Dustil—and all the apprentices from Korriban—favored _makashi_ over all the other forms, so Ev did all she could, switching from form to form, to force him into more creative tactics.

Switching rapidly from the leaps of _ataru_ to the measured, steady strikes of _shii-cho_, Ev kept Dustil on the offensive. His blue lightsaber hissed against the purple saber in her right hand and the red saber in her left. Ev spun away from Dustil, but he leaped towards her, quickly closing the gap. Feeling it was time to up the challenge, Ev moved to bring her left saber into full play. It was time to use both sabers aggressively. She shifted her weight onto her right foot and swung in with her left saber. Instead of defending against the new threat, Dustil made a powerful strike at her right saber, while Pushing at her with his left hand. Ev lost her footing and stumbled, the violet lightsaber flying from her grasp. It extinguished itself and clattered to the floor. In an instant, Dustil had his lightsaber pointed at her chest, poised to kill.

"Well done," Ev complimented, her eyes wide in surprise at the sudden turning of the tables. Dustil was getting better, but that trick should not have worked on her. "You really got me that time." She extinguished her second lightsaber and waited for Dustil to switch his own off.

With a laugh, Dustil Pulled Ev's purple saber towards him. It flew into his left hand and lit up at his touch. "So now that I've got you once when you've got both sabers going," Dustil asked triumphantly, "are you going to teach me how to double-wield?"

"Yes," Ev breathed. Somehow, Dustil's live saber still pointed lazily at her abdomen sent a nervous chill down her spine. "But not today. I think I've had enough for the morning."

"Aw," Dustil whined, "I was just getting going." Even so, he obediently extinguished both sabers. Finally, Ev was able to relax. Turning the hilt towards his master, Dustil respectfully handed Ev's saber back to her.

"Thank you," she said, clipping it back to her belt. She pushed herself up off of the ground and stood stiffly. "You may be raring to go, but I need a break."

Dustil squinted at her. He did that every time he tried to reach out with both the Force and his own internal reasoning at the same time. "Ev, what's the matter?" he asked suddenly, "You really are off today. I almost got you three times before that too. I know you're supposed to be one of the best duelists in the Order."

Ev took a deep breath and let it out in a slow sigh. "I'm sorry Dustil," she admitted, "I must be tired today, and it is taking away from your training. I was out late last night doing my research at the HoloNet news archives."

"Out late?" Dustil asked, "Oh, come on. I'm up late almost every night and you don't see me making a mess on the dueling floor."

"That is a matter of perspective, Dustil," Ev retorted with an eyebrow raised.

"Really, Ev," Dustil pressed, "How late were you out?"

"I didn't get back to the Temple until almost five this morning," Ev admitted reluctantly.

"Five? Seriously Ev," Dustil scolded, "You need to get more sleep. Your research can't be that important, can it? You've been spending more time in archives this week than you have training me."

"Here I am," Ev marveled sarcastically, "my Padawan giving me a lecture on healthy sleep habits."

"No, I'm serious," Dustil said stubbornly, "You go get some rest or something and I'll go find someone else to spar with."

"Dustil," Ev began to protest, using her assertive 'master' voice with him, but he blew her off.

"See you after lunch, Ev," he replied firmly and strode off towards the other end of the practice room where a few other students were sparring.

Instead of a nap, Ev felt the burning desire to go back over her notes again. She was getting closer and closer to a picture of her younger self. So many trails and leads were getting nearer to their end. Urgency gnawed at her, but she could not place why. Sighing, Ev slumped her shoulders and turned for the exit.

Dustil was right. She needed more sleep. She headed back towards her quarters, half-hoping that sleep would bring more dream-memories with it.

"Private Elbom Ranelwo, age 25, Chandrilla, died in combat, Battle of Gizer. Private Quan Linkthon, age 24, Belnar, died in combat, Battle of Gizer," Ev read, mumbling to herself, "Private Laurlie Spencer, age 27, Coruscant, died in combat, Battle of Gizer. Private Juterub Lanth, age 27, Sullust, died in combat, Battle of—"

"Ev, there you are," Juhani started Ev out of her reverie. She wound around the garden path and glided over to the bench where Ev was sitting.

Ev hastily put aside the datapad she had been reading and stood to greet Juhani. "Juhani, you're back," Ev said warmly, "How was your trip?"

Embracing briefly, Juhani answered, "It was enlightening. I do not know what I expected and I cannot explain what I felt, but I know I am moving forward."

"That's good hear," Ev replied, somewhat distractedly.

"My people are rebuilding," Juhani explained and sat down with Ev, "There is hope for Cathar. After walking on the world of my birth, I feel that I have cleansed much of my anger and hatred from me. I have found my roots again."

"And planted deep," Ev observed, "I sense a calm in you that you didn't have before leaving."

Seeing the datapad on the bench beside Ev, she asked, "What was that you were reading when I came. I hope I did not interrupt you."

"Ah, no you didn't," Ev affirmed quickly.

Juhani's sharp eyes scanned the pad from where she sat. "That is a list of war casualties," she realized, "Why are you pouring over the dead?"

"They are the dead of the late Mandalorian Wars and early Jedi Civil war," Ev explained, "They are my dead."

"Your dead?" Juhani asked.

"Mandalorians who died under the guns of my fleet. Good Republic soldiers who died against my Sith. Civilians whose worlds burned beneath my unyielding might. Jedi who thought they could stand against us. Sith men and women who I stole from their their homes to my cause, only to die in my service," Ev replied, "All of them are my dead. I killed them."

"That wasn't you," Juhani protested, "You are a new person now."

Holding her hands up before her, Ev stared down at them as she had many times before. They were so small, and yet they held so much responsibility. "These hands, Juhani, these hands still killed trillions, whether I remember it or not," she replied distantly, "History remembers. These people's families remember."

"And by reading their names, you are trying to remember," Juhani assessed.

"Something like that, but not quite," Ev failed to explain.

"You hope that by reading all these names, you will be cleansed," Juhani grasped it. She understood.

Ev nodded. "I cannot pretend that they never existed just because they do not now," Ev replied, "I need to do their memories service, and this is the best I can think of."

Juhani shook her head and placed a hand on Ev's shoulder. "Ev, be careful of guilt," she warned gently, "That leads to the Dark Side. You cannot let the past consume you. Those trillions of long-dead voices could drown out what is here and now."

"I will be careful," Ev promised, "But this is something I have to do if I am ever going to move on."

Juhani sighed and gazed over Ev's lap at the datapad. That Ev would attempt something so daunting and yet so noble was beyond her. And yet, it frightened her. Where was the calm she last felt in Ev before her trip to Cathar? What had changed and why? Uncomfortably, she changed the subject, "I have decided to take on a Padawan as well."

"Good," Ev smiled, "You will be an excellent master, Juhani, and the order needs as many masters as it can get at the moment. Have you decided who?"

"Shasa," Juhani replied, "She is skilled and has a temperament to match mine."

"I'd worry about someone with the same temperament as you," Ev teased, "But Shasa really does mesh with you. Have you told her yet?"

"Not yet," Juhani shook her head, "But I plan to soon."

Bastila watched Ev from across the atrium. Ev knew that she was coming to meet her, and yet she showed no sign of noticing that Bastila was so near. Ev was always sharply aware of her surroundings. Now, she only stared fixatedly at the datapad in her hands. It was as if nothing else mattered.

Ev's unresponsiveness was not the only thing that gave Bastila cause for concern. Ev was trying to shut her out. Day by day, she was feeling less and less over their bond. Before, Bastila had been backing off to give Ev more privacy, particularly in her relationship with Carth, but now it was Ev pulling back as well. Bastila still felt the uneasiness, fear, and guilt seeping over their bond and she knew that her friend was not well inside.

Taking a deep breath, Bastila crossed the atrium to where Ev was sitting. Ev finally looked up, smiling at her and quickly tucking away the datapad. As Ev stood to greet her, Bastila could sense something eating away at her beneath that easy smile. "It's about time, Bastila," Ev teased. "Caught up with Snow? Or was it the meetings this time?"

"I was merely taking a leisurely stroll through the Temple," Bastila replied.

"Leisurely stroll? That's unlike you," Ev chided, "I'm glad to hear you're finally relaxing." The forced humor in her voice made Bastila feel uneasy.

"You know, brooding is unlike you, Ev," Bastila pointed out, cutting straight to her fears, "If we are talking about what is unlike ourselves."

"Brooding?" Ev asked, her expression of surprise was unconvincing, "Who said I was brooding?"

"Juhani said that you have been reading over a list of the war dead," Bastila reported.

Ev looked her squarely in the eyes and nodded. "I am," she replied. "I find it cleansing."

"Ev, you'll never make it through the whole list and stay sane," Bastila pleaded rather than admonished, "You can't let yourself get obsessed with the past. We have the present to deal with. You are who you are now."

"I know," Ev replied heavily. Forcibly lightening up, she added, "Did Juhani tell you that she has taken Shasa as a padawan?"

"Yes, and they are both doing very well together," Bastila replied, "Juhani will make a far better master than she allows herself to imagine."

"You too," Ev pointed out, "How is Snow getting along?"

"She is enjoying the council meetings, and is incredibly perceptive," Bastila praised, "I am glad to have her there with me. She will make a great Jedi one day."

A silence fell between them.

"Ev," Bastila said finally, "I'm worried about you. Something is bothering you, and you're shutting me out of it."

"You don't want to have to share in everything I feel," Ev replied with a hint of bitterness in her voice, "I thought you would enjoy a bit of mental autonomy for once."

"I do," Bastila protested, "But that does not stop me from worrying about you. Please, what is bothering you?"

"Nothing new," Ev brushed off the question, "And I can take care of my own concerns, Bastila." Just then, Ev straightened up and peered over Bastila's shoulder. "Master Cafran," she called.

Bastila turned and saw a familiar elderly Jedi Master walking through the atrium as Ev started towards him.

"Good afternoon, Ev," he greeted her with a slight smile.

"If you had a minute, there were some questions I wanted to ask you," Ev started with an eagerness that almost felt eerie when compared with the unrest Bastila felt coming from inside her.

"I do happen to have a minute on my hands," Visto Cafran replied, "Walk with me."

As an afterthought, Ev added over her shoulder, "See you later, Bastila."

Bastila watched her go, turmoil growing in her own stomach. Something was tearing Ev apart inside. She was changing, and it scared Bastila. Worse yet, Ev was shutting her out of it all. She resolved to talk to Carth as soon as she could. Ev might push Bastila out of her life, but she could never seal herself off from Carth.

Bastila watched her go, turmoil growing in her own stomach. Something was tearing Ev apart inside. She was changing, and it scared Bastila. Worse yet, Ev was shutting her out of it all. She resolved to talk to Carth as soon as she could. Ev might push Bastila out of her life, but she could never seal herself off from Carth.

_There was fear and pain all around. Hatred was so thick in the air, she could almost taste it. This place, secret and perfected, it fueled her army. It fueled her._

_One of her special operatives, robed and hooded in black, marched up to her, dragging a hapless Jedi by her collar. He flung the woman to the stone floor before Revan and stood proudly over his captive._

_The woman would have been beautiful if not for the bloody nose, bruised arms, and dark circles beneath her eyes. Inclining her head to stare up at Revan seemed to take all the energy she had._

"_This one will not be broken," he reported with a snarl, "I thought you would like to have the honor of terminating her yourself."_

"_You are most considerate," Revan praised._

_The Jedi on the floor started to speak, but only coughed weakly from the effort. Revan waited. Finally, she managed to form her words. "I pity you, Revan. You don't understand the destruction you have wrought on the Republic."_

"_And you do not understand the destruction I am preventing," she replied. "If anyone is to be pitied, it is you."_

_The Jedi coughed again and laid her head against the floor again. She had no fight left in her._

"_But I do not feel like pitying anyone today," Revan continued. Beneath her mask, her lips curled into a sneer. She raised her hand and slowly closed her hands into a fist._

_The woman began to wheeze and cough more violently, writhing on the floor. Soon she couldn't cough, only writhe. Then, even the writhing ceased and she was dead._

"_Well done, my Lord Revan," the operative praised._

"_And you have failed," Revan turned her ire on the operative, "This woman should be in my army, not lying dead on the floor."_

_He paled. "Lord Revan, have mercy," he protested frantically, "She was a helpless cause. You know those Jedi..."_

"_I am no more inclined to mercy than I am inclined to pity today," Revan replied. She raised her hands, feeling the irresistible tingle of the Force surge through her. It leaped from her fingertips as bright lightning. The operative screamed and writhed. He tried to run, but his spasming muscles would not obey. Revan's wry smile broadened. Now this was satisfying. He collapsed to the ground, still twitching and screaming. Revan drew deeper into the Force and intensified the lightning—_

Suddenly Ev lay awake in bed, soft covers around her soaked with sweat. She was far from the dark place of her dreams. Carth leaned over her, a fearful look in his eyes.

"Ev, are you okay?" he whispered.

"I—I'm fine," her voice was dry in her parched throat. Just like that Jedi. "It was just a dream."

"Was it?" Carth asked pointedly.

"It's all in my head, Carth," she reassured him.

"What's all in your head? Do you even know?" he asked, "You've not been yourself recently. Ev, I don't want to leave you like this."

"But you have your duty to the Telos Restoration Project," Ev finished for him, "We knew this would happen to us when we married. You have your duties and I have mine."

"Ev, I can't leave you tomorrow knowing that you're falling apart inside," he said pleadingly. "I want to be here for you, but I can't if you won't open up and let me in. I want to know what's wrong."

Freeing herself from the tangled, damp sheets around her, she rolled over onto her back and stared up at the dark ceiling. After a long silence, she said, "Carth, trust me, there are things that you don't want to know."


	15. Chapter 15

Part 15- Sojourn at Telos

Amid a small fleet of miscellaneous ships, the _Hammerhead_-class cruiser _Sojourn_ slowly orbited Telos. For the first time in over five years, Carth was home, but it hardly felt like it. Far below, salty waves lapped against lifeless shores. Putrid air blanketed dead and ruined cities. The Sith nuclear bombardment that decimated Telos years before left only a few resilient microbes and insects alive to populate the graveyard planet. Now, to walk the surface unprotected was to invite illness and death. The Sith's destruction of Telos really had been complete. If not for the population of off-world Telosians, Telos would be lost to memory and history. The chance that the Republic now gave it in the Telos Restoration Project was an almost unimaginable heaven-send. A daunting task and expensive experiment, they had to succeed for the future of their planet and for the future of other worlds like theirs.

They had the dream. They had the money. They had the people to do it. Now all they had to do was organize themselves and get the process started. In the _Sojourn's _largest conference room was a gathering of thirty odd personnel, all with their own opinions on how the Telos Restoration project should begin.

"The ultimate goal here, just so we're clear, is to make Telos habitable," a plump Telosian woman, Emrie Lacen, asserted. She was the head of the Telosian Home Council and endlessly vocal about it.

"Yes, that is the goal," Chodo Habat, head of the Ithorian heard that had volunteered to take charge of the ecosystem planting, rumbled. A single protocol droid rattled away, translating the proceedings into Basic. "But while the new ecosystem is taking hold, we cannot jeopardize its stability by adding settlements on the surface."

"There is Citadel Station," Burqo Dam, one of the Duros engineers on the project, pointed out. "What we have now is small, but it is on a modular design. It can be easily expanded to house thousands of people; not just the restoration crew but Telosians wanting to move back."

"That would take a lot of fuel," another of the Duros engineers pointed out.

"But we do have almost exclusive access to Peragus," the Zabrak tech by the name of Bao-Dur pointed out quietly. Carth couldn't help but stare and the glowing array of machinery where the lower two thirds of his left arm must have been before.

"But let us get our crew set up in the station first," the newly-appointed financial minister of Telos, Adam Enkraquenn, reminded.

"Then it could be years before Telosians are able to resettle to this system," Emrie protested.

Jerol Onasi held up his hand for quiet, "But so it must be. This is not a project to be taken in a rush."

"Before we can begin, sections of the planet must be secured and shielded from the toxic atmosphere," Chodo Habat rumbled. "We must begin slowly with small plots of land."

"I have designs mostly finalized for ray shield towers," the Zabrak with one arm missing spoke again. "They need to be tested on the surface of the planet, but it should meet your needs, with some tweaking." Both Duros next to him nodded appreciatively.

"How do you propose we power those shield generators?" the Czerka representative who had been silent until then asked. Czerka had volunteered to help in the Telos restoration efforts, but Carth loathed to trust them with the future of his planet. Unfortunately, it wasn't his decision.

"Wind power is unreliable down there," Bao-Dur answered, "And so is solar, in the continuing nuclear winter. Tidal power could be used to get the project started. There is plenty of coastline to utilize."

Jerol nodded. "The initial work will all have to be done in environment suits," he assessed, "Which we have in ready supply, courtesy of the Republic. Chodo Habat, what is the time line your heard has planned for environmental development, so that everyone here is clear?"

"First, we must have shielded environmental zones," he began slowly, "Then we will began by planting flora and fauna, beginning at the bottom of the food chain, in each of the zones from worlds we suspect to be successful on Telos. As zones succeed, we will expand their borders and plant more until the entire surface is covered. If a particular planted ecosystem is unsuccessful, then we will purge it and re plant over it with a more successful system. Once an ecosystem has demonstrated long-term stability, re-settlers may begin moving in into low impact housing."

"When will it be appropriate to bring back agriculture and husbandry?" a petite Corellian woman sitting not far from Carth asked. She was a new addition to the council, one of the volunteers that appeared in orbit shortly after the _Sojourn _arrived. Carth had heard her introduced as Leiraya Moran, an organic fruit farmer. That description did little to explain the lightsaber hilt that hung at her belt, however. That and her barefoot, free-spirited appearance make Carth curious of her reasons to leave her fruit farm on Corellia to help rebuild Telos. Carth was sure he would have plenty of time to get to know her and the other newer volunteers as their project lurched into motion.

"At small scales," Chodo replied, "Almost immediately. It will be crucial to experiment early on which crops are successful on the new Telos."

"And could be a step towards eventual self-sufficiency for the planet," Leiraya Moran added.

"Have you considered industry or mining in your plans?" the Czerka representative voiced.

"That should come much later, when the environment is stable," Chodo advised.

"But don't you think Telos would be better off in the future if it had some income for itself?" he pressed, "When the Republic is no longer willing or able to support this project, Telos must have some way of continuing. Consider droid mining in un-restored zones. It would hardly get in the way of restoration. In fact, it would help in the long run."

"We must be careful of anything we do to our planet in terms of growth, testing it on a small scale first," Jerol warned, "But you do make a fair point. We will have to find a way to work that into our larger plans."

The Czerka representative nodded and leaned back in his seat, satisfied.

"Our first priorities, it seems, are to get Citadel Station running and a few tidal power plants going on the surface with our first ray shield networks," Jerol concluded, "We will need surveyor crews on the surface to give us an up-to-date map as well as to point out good regions to start our restoration in and dangerous regions to avoid. Telos has changed greatly in the last five years, so we must move forward with care and caution."

There were murmurs of assent in the room.

"Also with regard to care and caution, we must maintain strict security on this project to avoid accidents or even sabotage," Jerol continued. "Admiral Onasi, would you brief us on the essentials of our security going forward?"

Carth straightened up and addressed the crowded conference room. "Although the Sith are as good as defeated, they are still out there and they are still a threat to the Republic, particularly to a fragile operation like this," he explained, "The _Sojourn_ will maintain orbit over Telos until Citadel Station is equipped with its own security force and defense system. At that point, the _Sojourn_ will patrol the system, never straying far away. Only when Telos has its own comparable fleet will the Republic military presence here lessen. All weapons on the surface, on this ship, and on Citadel Station must be registered and adhere to strict safety guidelines. Firing a weapon on any of those locations, except in situations of direct self defense, is a punishable offense. We all must be wary of smugglers and illegal landings on the planets surface, so I will be relying on all of you to be a network of eyes and ears watching out for the unusual."

"Thank you Admiral. Once the new Telosian government is settled, we will begin recruiting a security force," Jerol added. "This is an expanding project and will eventually grow to encompass the entire world. I want to thank you all for volunteering for this project. Let us see it through to the end. Here is to a new Telos!"

Polite cheers erupted in the room. Carth was not the only person in the room with eyes wet with the joy of a dream finally beginning to come true.


	16. Chapter 16

Part 16- Remembering the Lost

Ev breathed in deeply, letting the crisp mountain air of Corellia refresh her. It had been far too long since she had last left the congestion of Coruscant.

"Ev, I don't get why we have to keep doing this," Dustil whined, trudging behind her. He pulled his cloak closer around his shoulders to keep out the morning chill. "It's been so long since any of these people died."

"But when your loved one dies," Ev countered gently, "It never seems distant. The pain hangs with you longer than you would want to admit. Think about your mother or Selene."

"Oh," Dustil responded and fell silent. Dustil would not admit that he still grieved, but Ev knew it was there, just as Carth would always grieve for Morgan. Death was not something you could undo.

Ev looked down at the tourist map she had downloaded to her datapad at the Bela Vistal spaceport when they arrived and recalled the address she was headed for. "Sarvode Enclave, Pinnacle Row, number 324," she murmured, punching in the address. The GPS quickly drew out a route for her. "Come on, this way Dustil," she urged.

He made a groan of protest as she picked up the pace and turned off the pleasant cafe-lined main street.

"Dustil," Ev reminded him patiently, "You don't have to come along with me if you don't want to. You could go back to the nice, warm ship and finish your nap."

"No," he shook his head firmly, "If you're doing this because you think it's important, I'm coming along, because you're my master."

Ev chuckled. "You're learning," she said, "Even despite yourself, you're learning."

"Hey," Dustil grumbled, but he was still smiling at her.

They turned onto a broader road and continued southward. Speeders cruised by down the street. Up ahead, just as the dotted line on her map indicated, was a large arching gateway into a walled community with a large sign in gold letters saying 'Sarvode Enclave.' At a signaled cross walk, they crossed to the other side of the street and entered into the compound.

Long rows of nearly identical, neat, two-story houses lined gridded streets. Short pathways cut through green, manicured lawns. Some of the home owners cultivated flowers in their tiny plot of land while others did not.

Ev and Dustil followed the map directions into the enclave to Pinnacle Row and along it to the house numbered 324. Staring at the gray front door from the street, Ev said, "Here it is." She took a deep breath then started up the front walk. Ev never knew what to expect from these visits; anger, confusion, grief, relief, or some of all of those together. No matter the outcome, she had to do this.

Dustil at her heels, Ev arrived at the front step and pressed the chime. There were footsteps inside and an upright-looking woman opened the door. Middle age had treated her moderately well, though her dark blond hair seemed to be salon dyed to hide her natural gray. "Hello," she said, looking them over, "Can I help you, master Jedi?"

"Are you Mrs. Inox?" Ev asked politely.

"Yes," she nodded with uncertainty.

"This will seem very much out of the blue, but I am here to say that I am sorry for the passing of your sons," Ev started. It was much the same as she had said when visiting families on Coruscant in her spare time.

"What? My sons?" Mrs. Inox asked. There was masked pain in her voice.

"I am sorry that, with great futures ahead of them, their lives were cut short," Ev continued, "Abel at the battle of Foerost, and Cainos throwing in his lot with the Sith. I am sorry from the very bottom of my heart."

"Thank you," Mrs. Inox stammered. There were tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. "But why?"

"Because someone needs to say it," Ev answered, "And it might as well be me."

"Who are you?" Mrs. Inox asked, mystified.

"My name is Revan Roan'evrue Pell," Ev replied. There were few times when she would admit to the name the Jedi Council had given her. This was one of them.

"You're the one who killed Malak," Mrs. Inox realized.

Ev bowed her head. "And, before I was redeemed, my war killed your sons. Mrs. Inox, I truly am sorry for your loss."

The tears at the corners of the woman's eyes escaped and slid down her face. She sniffed and dabbed them away with her shirt sleeve. "Thank you," she said, "Revan."

"I wish you all the best, Mrs. Inox," Ev finished.

"Thank you," she said again, and backed up, holding the edge of the door in her hand.

Ev made a full bow and Dustil hastily followed her lead. Without another word, she turned and left. As they walked up the footpath, Ev heard the lonely mother let out a quiet sob and gently shut the door behind them.

"I wish I could say that time will ease the pain," Ev said quietly to herself.

Walking down the street towards the main road again, Dustil observed, "This really is doing you some good, isn't it, Ev?"

Ev nodded, "And, more than that, I hope it's doing some good for them."

"You're a lot calmer now, after all these visits, than you were last week," Dustil added.

"I think I am beginning to understand what I must do," Ev replied, but she did not elaborate.

"So where to now?" Dustil asked.

"I am pretty certain that there is at least one more mother of a war-broken household in Bela Vistal," Ev replied, "Let's go pay her a visit too."


	17. Chapter 17

Part 17- Calling Mandalore

Another day, another archive. Banking off of Carth's clearance, Ev returned to the navy headquarters to dig further through their seemingly endless collection of materials on the Mandalorian Wars. Today, Ev sent her cataloger droid after materials containing information on the final battle at Malachor V. It was a terrible day for both sides, that much she knew already, and the Republic emerged victorious at last. What she did not understand was the Revanchist's reaction to it all. Instead of a victorious speech or allegorical lesson from it all, she simply called her fleet together and pressed deeper into the unknown.

Ev selected one of the data cards in the pile brought to her by the cataloger droid labeled 'Battle of Malachor, Duty Log, Second Lieutenant Krevar Froszki.' She slid it into her reader and began to scan over the text.

'The Revanchist sought out Mandalore and engaged in one-on-one duel with borrowed vibroblades.'

"_Mandalore, at last we meet face to face," she said, approaching him across the dusty ground._

"_Revanchist, you have fought honorably and with great valor," Mandalore replied. He stood still waiting for her, golden armor shining in the dim sunlight and red cape flapping in the wind. Like her own face, his gaze was obscured behind a dark mask. "You have earned the glory of a thousand victories."_

"_And you deserve death for what you have done," Revan replied darkly._

_Mandalore did not flinch from the threat. "I see you wear a mask of our people," he observed._

"_I wear the mask of a dissident," Revan declared, "I wear the mask of the billions of tears cried for the billions you have killed. I wear this mask until those victims have justice."_

"_And what of this justice of yours?" Mandalore asked._

"_Today is the day you will die, Mandalore," Revan said darkly._

"_So it shall be," Mandalore nodded. He shrugged out of his cape and brandished his long halberd._

_Revan cast off her own cloak, but did not draw her lightsabers. Too many good Jedi had fatally learned that Mandalore favored only cortosis armor and weaponry and had learned too late. Contact with the volatile metal would short out any lightsaber and leave a Jedi defenseless. Two soldiers standing by did have vibroblades in their possession. That would do. She reached out with the Force and pulled at them. The weapons sprung from their startled owners' hands and flew into her grasp. "On your guard, Mandalore," Revan said._

"_May the greatest warrior have victory," he replied formally, then launched towards her, halberd cutting through the air._

Ev let out a long breath and rubbed her temples, blinking furiously. That would be the first time when a memory returned to her when she was still fully awake. The veil between herself and who she was before was wearing thinner and thinner. She took another deep breath and let it out, then continued to read.

'The duel lasted nearly one standard hour, but the Revanchist emerged victorious, decapitating Mandalore. The Revanchist took Mandalore's mask and ordered that all surviving Mandalorians be stripped of their armor and their weapons be destroyed. Few Mandalorians resisted after the decisive defeat of their army over Malachor and the Revanchist over their leader.'

_Revan held both vibroblades crossed over Mandalore's neck. He knelt before her, all-but-defeated. _So this is what victory tastes like. _Mandalore the Ultimate was at her mercy, and how she hated him for what he had done._

"_Revanchist, you are the greatest warrior of our time," Mandalore wheezed. "It was an honor to do battle with you."_

_Revan glared down at him through her mask. There were no words to express the hatred she felt for him._

"_But are you a great enough warrior to hold off the darkness that is yet to come?" Mandalore asked._

_With a scream, Revan drew her blades together and sliced his head clean off. The body toppled over and the helmeted head bounced twice before it rolled to a stop on the ground. _

_Revan discarded the two vibroblades, disgusting and tainted with the blood of a murder. She stepped over his body to where the head lay and bent down to remove the helmet. Beneath the mask was the face of a proud man with a thick, black goatee. He was just like any other man, only he was Mandalore, the destroyer of systems. _

_Revan clutched the brassy mask in her fist and shook it into the air. "So long as I live, no other Mandalorian shall wear this mask and reign terror on the galaxy again," she declared loud enough for everyone around the duel to hear, "By acting as they did, the Mandalorians have given up their right to honor and to their leader. Take their armor. Take their weapons. They will not be allowed to exist as they had."_

_Soldiers moved immediately into motion to carry out her every command. This was power._

_She wasn't satisfied._

Ev shook her head sharply and blinked off her daze. Mandalore had warned her of the Sith, cryptic as he had been, though it seemed that she had expected that all along.

Mandalore.

The Revanchist's work was not finished with that leader of the Mandalorians. Somehow, it seemed that the Revanchist's work was not finished even yet. No one would finish it for her, either.

Urgency, fear, and hesitance all gnawed at Ev's heart. If there still was that danger out there, she knew only she could face it, and yet, she could not bear the thought of leaving all those she loved behind. She could even less bear the idea of the galaxy falling into another destructive war, costing trillions more lives. The Revanchist was famed for casting off her identity in favor of service to the galaxy. But, could Ev Pell do that again, in this life?

She did not know.

She knew even less of what threat she faced. Her memories were fragmented, scattered. She did not have an army. She had only herself. Did she even have sufficient control over the Force and herself to strike out on her own?

Ev sighed and continued reading the log again.

'We destroyed most of the Mandalorians' gear, but some was taken into storage to the Ruac II Military Outpost to be cataloged and studied. We never know when the Mandalorians will rise again, and this will give us an edge over them next time.'

"The mask," Ev realized.

She abruptly ejected the data disk and set it on top of the stack on her small table. She had read enough today.

Ev pulled out her comlink and clicked in a familiar code. "HK," she started, "Find Canderous. I want to meet with him again."

"Promise: It will be done, Master," HK-47's mechanical voice replied menacingly over the comlink.

"And, before you even ask," Ev amended, "No, you may not use force. He can come on his own time. Just report to me when he is ready."

Not far from the Jolly Mandalorian tap caff was a dark cantina called Raxo's. It was the respectful sort of cantina where there were no cameras, no hidden microphones, and all due privacy given to all the patrons. This is where HK-47 told Ev to find Canderous. He was already seated in a particularly dark corner, watching warily for her arrival.

Ev slid into the booth across from him.

"That droid of yours said you summoned me," Canderous started gruffly. "This had better be good."

Ev snorted, "HK would phrase it that way, wouldn't he?"

"So what do you want?" Canderous asked. "I've got a job for Krekk tonight."

"Have you thought more about bringing the Mandalorians back together again?" Ev asked. Canderous was not in the mood for small talk and neither was she.

"Hmph, that," Canderous muttered, "Gathering Ordo together again, that might be possible. I still have a good name among them, but the other Mandalorians, it would be impossible. Without a new Mandalore, we will remain fragmented. Without Mandalore's mask, there will be no new Mandalore, and you saw to that at the end of the war."

Ev nodded appreciatively. _So he has been thinking about it after all_. She waited for a moment, debating on how to phrase what she would say next. "Canderous, I think I know where the mask is," she said.

A spark ignited in Canderous' eyes that Ev had not seen in a long while. "You remember?" he asked, "Where?"

"I am fairly certain it was placed, with a number of other Mandalorian war spoils in the Ruac II Military Outpost," Ev explained.

"Is it still occupied?" he asked.

"Yes, though not heavily guarded," Ev replied.

"So they think we're gone for good, do they," Canderous chuckled.

"The trick would be to reclaim it in such a way that does not alarm the Republic to a rising Mandalorian presence," Ev cautioned.

"This sounds like the sort of challenge I have been looking for," Canderous said eagerly. "I'll get Kex and Bralor to come with me. We'll get it done."

"And you will be the new Mandalore," Ev added.

Canderous started at her and nodded stiffly. "You have given me the honor of fighting against you and fighting with you," he said, "Now I will have the honor of fighting for you."

"I don't know what's out there, but I do know it is dangerous. It is a silent threat to the galaxy we know," Ev said quietly, "I need you to gather the clans and prepare for battle. I can't tell you when it will happen, but I need you to be ready. Can you do that?"

Canderous nodded, "The Mandalorians will always take honor in fighting under your banner, Revan. In this age, there is no greater warrior than you."

"Thank you Canderous," Ev said with a sigh, "The Republic is going to owe you another one."

"And so you're going then?" Canderous observed.

"I don't know," Ev hesitated.

"Yes you are," Canderous affirmed, "I can see it in your eyes."

Ev swallowed hard. She was as torn as ever.

"If I get Mandalore's mask," Canderous asked. "Where's yours? Revan wasn't Revan without her mask."


	18. Chapter 18

Part 18- Echoes of the Past

The _Ebon Hawk _touched down in a grassy clearing just outside the Dantooine Jedi Enclave. There had been no space amid the rubble in the enclave's landing courtyard.

Disembarking, Ev stepped off the _Ebon Hawk's _landing platform and let the afternoon air wash over her. She breathed deeply and shut her eyes. The smell of death and destruction still hung on the wind like a faint smoke. Inside her chest, Ev's heart ached. This place was a wound in the Force.

She reached out the Force for comfort, almost to comfort it. As it flowed through her, the Force almost seemed like a lonely small child, relieved to see someone at last who could understand, to related all the horrors it had seen in this place. The dismayed yells of Jedi and screams of terrified younglings reached her ears, echoing as if over a great distance. Flickers of night, fire, lightsabers, and death danced past her inner vision in ephemeral fragments. Fear seized her heart as it had so many Jedi that night. This place cried out to all who would listen, and its cries would echo in the Force for centuries to come.

These echoes were not what Ev expected to find here. She did not know what to expect, although she had hopes of a more material sort. Ev wondered if all wounds like this from the wars cried out in the same way.

Ev sighed and opened her eyes, but the memories would not leave her. They embraced her. Perhaps this was the key to remembering.

She started over the dry grass towards the entrance to the enclave, which hung ajar and broken out of its track. Everywhere were signs of struggle. Black carbon of laser fire scored the outer walls. Rubble was cut in two, too evenly to be sliced by anything but an errant lightsaber. From the indentation in the dirt in front of the door and the fragments and feelings that the Force gave her, Ev knew that a Jedi had died there, cut down by the Sith. His body had undoubtedly been carried away by the small party of Jedi that came here shortly after the attack to investigate and give rest to the dead.

Inside, the Jedi Enclave was worse than it had seemed from the air. Piles of rubble collapsed in from the ceiling above made portions of the hallway nearly impassible. Ev clambered over piles and shifted large stones out of the way with the Force, slowly working her way inward. Every step of the way, flickers of horrifying memories accosted her at the edge of her consciousness.

Ev pushed out of the collapsed corridor and into the sunlight of an open courtyard again. In the center, amid all the destruction, still stood the stalwart, twisted cedar under whose branches Ev and Juhani had spent several long afternoons in conversation near the end of Ev's education here. A few branches were broken off, leaving splintered nobs behind, but the tree still stood, giving memory to all the life that had once flourished within the enclave walls.

Ev sat herself on the cracked embankment that encircled the tree. She stared out at the courtyard, taking it all in. Many Jedi, young and old, had died in this very place. _Is this my fault too? More deaths to add to my list? They were looking for Bastila—or was that just a ruse? Malak knew who I was, and he wanted me. Even if this was just a random piece of Sith brutality, it would have never happened if I hadn't brought the Sith back in the first place and made Malak who he was. _"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Ev whispered to the ghosts of the Jedi who died that day, hoping that they would be good enough to forgive.

Ev pulled her legs up and crossed them beneath her. Breathing deeply, she let herself go deeper into the Force. The Force had much to say to her here, and she would listen.

Juhani burst into Bastila's room without knocking.

"And?" Bastila asked expectantly.

"I have just been to talk with Dustil," Juhani reported after quietly closing the door behind her, "He said that Ev took off suddenly two days ago, saying that she had some personal investigation to do."

"Which is odd, because she usually takes Dustil with her when she goes off-planet," Bastila said.

"Then the _Ebon Hawk_ is not in Carth's storage hangar?" Juhani asked.

Bastila nodded. "He did leave it here so that she could have access to it whenever she needed to," she replied, "And now she's taking off with it at any chance she gets." Bastila sighed. "I felt like a fool at the time, but now I don't regret tracking down that little astromech of hers and ordering it to come find me if anything ever happens to her."

"T3-M4 is loyal and resourceful," Juhani agreed. "But why must she keep doing this? Bastila, what do you sense from her? Is she alright?"

Bastila shook her head frustratedly. "Lately, she has been more focused," she replied, "She has learned to shut me out more and more. I still feel her there at the other end of our connection, but it isn't a constant stream of her feelings any more."

Juhani sank down onto the bed next to Bastila helplessly. "I want to be of help to her," Juhani moaned, "But I do not know how."

Most of the ways into the sublevel of the Jedi Temple were blocked, but Ev finally managed to find a way down through a hole in the floor above. Dust blanketed everything. It was not the dust of age but the dust of stonework blown to a powder by orbital bombardment lasers. Ev's foot falls were the only boot prints to disturb the dust recently. Signs of the beginnings of a lagrek colony in the Enclave's basement were already evident, however. Though she saw their track marks on the floor and heard them hissing and scuttling behind each corner, they avoided her.

In the dimness, Ev did not need her eyes to guide her. Memories did that for her. The scant month she spent here at the enclave, retraining under Master Zhar and Bastila, seemed like ages ago. So much had changed in these last two years. Ev had no idea then just what she would become, or what she had been before.

There had been so much hope here; not just for her future and the part she could play in ending the war, but in the futures of all the younglings who trained here. Ev's stomach turned over again inside her with frustration and grief. They did not deserve to die. No one did.

Like the small council chamber Ev now picked her way through, many rooms in the enclave's basement had been off limits to her and the younger trainees. There were more signs of battle here, slices at the stone chairs and scoring on the walls. The silvery hilt of a lightsaber lay discarded in one corner, sliced cleanly in half. Instinctively Ev knew that Malak had been the very Sith in this chamber two years ago to slay the owner of that saber.

Malak: her friend, protege, and creation.

These protected rooms, private to the Jedi Masters, held many secrets still, some secrets that Ev wished to uncover herself. As she had feared, there was evidence of salvagers picking through the ruins already, but not so much to destroy what she was looking for or ruin the memory of those that fell there. Not yet anyway.

From the scattered memories she now had and the accounts of a few kindly older Jedi, Ev knew that Dantooine had also been the enclave that raised her. Found as a refugee baby on the far outer room, Ev was brought here as an infant, raised and trained into a great Jedi. This place formed her early years. It even echoed on who she was now. Sneaking through these back hallways, no fear of being caught, was a familiar feeling.

Malak was raised here too, her closest friend. A part of her was baffled that he, even with all of his memories of this place in tact, would personally see to its destruction. The rest of her knew that Dark Malak of the Jedi Civil War was so far beyond sentiment and nostalgia to even remember what mercy would look like. Darth Malak became nothing more than a power-hungry, jealous killer. At the time of his death, he knew little else.

This enclave was also the place that the Jedi masters held her captive and reformed her mind. Somewhere, in the depths of the enclave, they were able to keep her secret from the rest of the Jedi as they delicately built her into a safe version of herself that they could use to win the war: a blaster without a trigger or a lightsaber without a focusing crystal, they hoped.

That secret place was the place Ev sought. With the Force to guide her, it would not evade her for long. Beneath all the pain of the attack on the enclave, Ev sensed another, separate darkness. It was a familiar darkness.

It was her own.

She pushed through cobwebs and unsteady rubble into the back entrance of the Dantooine archives. This was the way the Masters often entered, and also had access to a separate set of archives. Past the bashed-in door that creaked in protest as it slid open on its tracks, Ev found two more sets of doors, just as she had suspected. Turning to the right, she entered the private archive of the Jedi Masters. The holo records that lay strewn all over rattle shelves and the floor would bring new depth to her research, but that search was not what drove her now.

Ev stepped carefully over the data disks that the bombardment had shaken to the floor towards another door at the back of the small archive. She could sift through these later. The door looked like any other panel in the wall, but Ev knew it when she saw it. She knew it had to be here. In such a small archive, why leave one section of wall uncovered with shelves except that that section of the wall was a doorway and not a piece of wall at all. She probed it with the Force and it grated open, sliding along gritty tracks.

The door led to a passage down a winding set of stairs that plunged deep into the earth below the Jedi Enclave. It smelled musty and felt dark. Even as she reached the landing at the bottom and laid her hand on the door controls, Ev knew that this was the place. Here, the Jedi kept knowledge and artifacts too dangerous to be stored anywhere else and yet too precious to be destroyed.

Suddenly, the com terminal in Bastila's room beeped with an incoming call. Bastila leaped up and saw the incoming call labeled as 'Sojourn, Republic Navy.' She accepted the call and Carth's bust resolved into view.

"Carth, what can I do for you?" Bastila answered as calmly as she could.

"Bastila," Carth started immediately, "I just noticed a message from the hangar I rent on Coruscant that the _Ebon Hawk_ took off a few days ago. Is Ev on another trip?"

"As far as we can tell, yes," Bastila replied.

Carth's shoulders sank. "So she didn't tell you either?" he asked.

Juhani shifted over to where Carth could see her in the com terminal. "Here we were hoping that she had told you the purpose of her trip," Juhani said.

Carth sighed, "I want to trust her, but I just don't know any more. She's not herself."

"Her research seems to be consuming her," Juhani added.

"Carth, did she tell you she's been visiting families of people who died in these wars, on both sides?" Bastila asked.

"No, but Dustil did," Carth replied, "She's apologizing to all of them. It's like guilt is eating her up inside."

"She still reads that list of the dead when she thinks no one is watching," Juhani said.

"I'm beginning to regret giving her my clearance into the navy files," Carth admitted.

"She would have found her way to that information with or without you, Carth," Bastila pointed out, "Don't beat yourself up over that."

Carth sighed again. "I wish I was still on Coruscant. I hate not being able to be there for her," he said.

"I wish you were too," Juhani admitted, "She is so much more stable when you are around."

"You know," Carth started, "As soon as she gets back, tell me. I'm going to use some of my personal leave to come back to see her." He laughed sarcastically at himself, "As if she needs me."

"Of course she needs you, Carth," Juhani protested, "She loves you."

The room was small and cluttered. Deep underground, it was completely untouched by the Sith bombardment. The Sith did not know it was here and were not looking for it. All for the better they did not. The holocrons, ancient books, and Sith artifacts stored openly in this room would shock most Jedi and thrill any gleeful treasure-hunting Sith. Ev herself was floored by the volume of treasures kept hidden below the enclave.

In one corner there was a modern Force cage. Ev had no doubt as to what that had been for. Surely, that had been her prison for the months it took to reform her. Ev approached it tentatively, step by step, bracing herself for any sudden visions of returned memories. None came. She reached out and touched the activation panel, desperately trying to remember anything from that time, but the memories eluded her.

A plain footlocker near the cage mechanisms caught her eye. Among the ancient and arcane, it too stood out as odd in the hidden chamber. Ev knelt down in front of it and lifted the lid. Folded neatly inside, as if stowed away for her own future use, were the dark robes, armor, and mask of Darth Revan. Ev froze and caught her breath.

There was a single lightsaber in the footlocker as well, beside the clothes. Seeing it there, Ev's left hand went reflexively to the hilt of her red saber to reassure herself that it was still there. The saber lying before her was almost identical as the one she hung from her belt. Just how Revan's second saber came to be at the Korriban academy, a prize for successful students, was a mystery. No matter how, there it was in the Tomb of Naga Sadow, waiting for her return. The saber the Sith had tested her with on Korriban wasn't just any saber. It was _her_ saber. Now she had its mate as well.

The faceless mask stared up at her, eyes slits into deep abysses. It seemed almost expectant. Ev reached down. Her fingers brushed the cold metal, sending a shiver up her arms. This is what she had been looking for.

Ev had known all along that she could not understand her past self without looking out through those narrow slits and seeing the world as the Revanchist had seen it. Revan was not just a person, and she had known that. She was a leader and a symbol. She was the voice of a cause. She was more than just one individual. The mask was what made it all possible.

Thanks to the meticulous record keeping of the Republic Navy, Ev now knew the extent of her famed Masking Speech. She had read it so many times, she now had it memorized.

"Now knowing only the beginning of the horrors possible at the hands of the Mandalorians, I cannot sit by and simply beg for action. I must take action, and I cry out for my fellow Jedi to stand beside me.

"I don this mask, the mask of a Mandalorian who dared to beg for mercy for the Cathar, the mask of a Mandalorian who was shot down by her own for daring to speak for justice. I will wear it to speak for that justice that was her outcry. And until the victims of these atrocities have justice, until the galaxy is safe from the threat of the Mandalorians, I will not remove this helmet. Until the galaxy is secure, I give up my face for the face of this, my cause. So says Revan!"

Ev repeated it to herself, holding the helmet gently between her hands. A shiver of expectation ran down her spine.

The galaxy was not safe or secure. She felt that in her very being. Even with a name like Revan Roan'evrue Pell, the Prodigal Knight, Ev lacked the power she once had. She was just another Jedi Knight in the eyes of the galaxy. One Jedi Knight was nothing, insignificant. But a symbol like the Revanchist, masked and crusading for justice, that was powerful.

Though uneasiness coursed through her in waves, Ev knew that she had to reclaim the mask of Revan.

Juhani burst into Bastila's room without knocking.

"And?" Bastila asked expectantly.

"I have just been to talk with Dustil," Juhani reported after quietly closing the door behind her, "He said that Ev took off suddenly two days ago, saying that she had some personal investigation to do."

"Which is odd, because she usually takes Dustil with her when she goes off-planet," Bastila said.

"Then the _Ebon Hawk_ is not in Carth's storage hangar?" Juhani asked.

Bastila nodded. "He did leave it here so that she could have access to it whenever she needed to," she replied, "And now she's taking off with it at any chance she gets." Bastila sighed. "I felt like a fool at the time, but now I don't regret tracking down that little astromech of hers and ordering it to come find me if anything ever happens to her."

"T3-M4 is loyal and resourceful," Juhani agreed. "But why must she keep doing this? Bastila, what do you sense from her? Is she alright?"

Bastila shook her head frustratedly. "Lately, she has been more focused," she replied, "She has learned to shut me out more and more. I still feel her there at the other end of our connection, but it isn't a constant stream of her feelings any more."

Juhani sank down onto the bed next to Bastila helplessly. "I want to be of help to her," Juhani moaned, "But I do not know how."

"Either way, I need her," Carth replied. His voice sounded bleak.

"I am beginning to fear," Bastila started hesitantly, "that with all of these sudden trips Ev is taking, she just might not return one day. She is out after something, but I don't know what it is. What if she finds it?"

"Bastila, don't say that!" Juhani admonished.

"Juhani, she's right," Carth argued meekly, "I am afraid of exactly the same thing. She seems to be putting her search for whatever it is before anything or anyone else."

Juhani set her jaw and declared firmly, "Once she returns, I will not let her out of my sight again."

"Juhani, what of your training of Shasa?" Bastila asked, "Isn't that going a bit too far?"

"Shasa will have to learn Force Camouflage or be left behind," Juhani said firmly, "We cannot lose Ev. I will follow her to the ends of the galaxy if I must."

Carth looked more uncomfortable than ever over the com. "I need to get back to work," he said reluctantly, "But please keep me updated. I'll try to get back to Coruscant as soon as I can."

"We will, Carth," Bastila promised.

Ev's Jedi robes lay discarded in a messy pile on the floor. Instead, she wore the heavy, black robes of Darth Revan, every clasp and buckle of it. Beneath all the leather, cotton, and wool, Ev felt more than just the weight of her clothing. _What am I doing? Dressing up like the single most feared individual in the recent history of the galaxy?_ She stared down at the gray and red helmet in her gloved hands. Something—curiosity perhaps—compelled her to finish what she had begun. Slowly, laboriously, Ev turned the helmet around in her hands and lifted it to her head. She slid it down over her brow and onto her shoulders.

Blinking, Ev stared out through the glossy eye slit. In the Force cage in the corner, she saw a specter of herself.

"_So you will not thank us for saving your life, then, Roan'ev?" Master Vrook said distastefully. With him stood the other three Masters of the Dantooine Enclave: Vandar, Dorak, and Zhar._

_Even through the obscuring slit of Revan's mask, the intensity of her glare was unmistakable. "You did not send those Jedi to my ship to save my life," she replied sharply, voice echoing deeply from within the mask, "They came to capture me or to kill me. You have succeeded in the first. Will you continue with the later?"_

"_We Jedi do not kill our prisoners," Master Dorak said._

"_What now, then?" Revan asked, tilting her head to the side. Even within the Force cage, gloved hands manacled before her for extra protection, she bore herself calmly and confidently. "Will you demand that I tell you all my secrets?"_

"_And let you deceive us with your lies as you have deceived countless others?" Vandar asked, "No."_

_Revan chuckled, "I would not have told you, had you asked. You know it is pointless to hold me here. Darth Malak will have taken control of the Sith by now. I am worth nothing as ransom. He will not want me back. I am no longer even a commander of a Sith that you can coerce into ending this war. Poorly played, Jedi."_

"_There are techniques in the Force," Master Vrook began slowly, "Through which you can rewrite a mind to follow a new cause."_

"_You speak of such techniques as if I do not know them already," Revan shot back, voice full of sudden venom, "You would make me a puppet of a Jedi, then? You would strip the galaxy of one of its most brilliant and powerful leaders?"_

"_You are delusional, Roan'ev," Vrook spat._

"_You have no idea what it is you are doing, Jedi," Revan's voice raised to a terrifying timber, "By removing me, you are cutting the head off the cunning hydra. Each head that will spring back will strike harder, but will be stupid and lack all the direction it had with just one. By removing me, you leave open your galaxy to destruction beyond your wildest nightmares. I was your last line of defense. You no not what waits out there in the darkness for you, Jedi. Malak, with all the subtly of a Gamorrean cleaver, will not be your hero. Release me and survive, Jedi."_

"_This galaxy has had enough of your poison, Revan," Vrook shot back, "It is time for your 'redemption'."_

_The other three Jedi Masters fell into position around the Force cage. Revan knew this technique well. She hoped that her own will to remember would be enough to counter the combined wills of the four Jedi Masters. Unfocused and pompous as they were, Revan had to believe that she was the stronger._

Hands shaking, Ev lifted off the helmet. It was too obvious to her now. How could the Jedi Masters not have understood? They must have thought Revan's warnings the crazed pleadings of woman who had lost her mind to the dark side. Even if they had heeded her danger, they must have assumed she was only concerned with the fragmented Sith under Malak's reckless leadership.

No. Revan spoke of another danger, a danger that only she was ready to protect the galaxy from.

Ev gazed past the helmet in her hands to the pile of crumpled Jedi robes on the stone floor. There was no going back now.


	19. Chapter 19

Part 19- The Final Test

Dustil's skin crawled as they disembarked near Dreshdae, the settlement he used to call home. A cool, dry wind ruffled though his short hair. It howled and whistled through the peaks and caverns of the mountainous tombs of the long dead Sith Lords. Hideously blank stone faces looked down on him from above.

Above moans of the wind, all was quiet. Deathly quiet. Even the packs of shyrack and tuk'ata that undoubtedly prowled the valley were silent as the grave. Dustil shivered.

Not that the Dreshdae and the Valley of the Dark Lords had ever been teeming with life—not in living memory anyway—but without the Sith students and archaeologists, it seemed disquietingly bleak. They were all either gone or dead.

Dustil looked over at Ev standing beside him. She stood alert and erect, staring straight ahead, down the valley towards the path to the old Sith Academy. Dustil reached out to her through the Force, but she felt distant, her presence nearly drowned out by the Dark Side energies that ebbed and flowed around them.

Relaxing very slightly, Ev turned to Dustil and asked, "How do you feel?"

Dustil tried to asses himself objectively and shuddered. "I don't want to be back here," he admitted, "I left this place behind me and I didn't want to think about it any more."

"And that's why we're here," Ev replied, "To think about it. Your past is part of who you are, as much as your present and future. You must face it, confront it, and live with it if you are to live at all."

Dustil nodded. "I just..." he started, "I have so many bad memories here."

"Do you have good memories here as well?" Ev asked.

"Well, yeah," Dustil responded, "This place meant a lot to me then, but now I'm not so proud to have been a student here."

"You have come a long way, Dustil," Ev praised. "Now, let's go."

"Go where?" Dustil asked, hanging back.

"To the heart of your past here: the academy," Ev replied and started off down the valley.

"Wait," Dustil nervously surged ahead to catch up with her, "Do we have to?"

"I have brought you to this place as a test," Ev explained patiently, "Your time in the academy will expose any cracks in your resolve to follow the Light and any holes in your Jedi training. We need to be tested often to know just how we stand, and I think you are finally ready for this test."

"I'm glad you think I'm ready, Ev," Dustil replied at an uncomfortable mumble, "I really have worked hard to become a Jedi."

"Yes you have," Ev agreed as they walked. "Both of us have much farther to go as Jedi than so many of the others. You have to climb a lot further to reach the light when you are coming out of darkness. It is much easier to fall back into old, destructive habits. With our past, we have so much to prove. Being average Jedi isn't enough for others to trust us. We must be spotless."

"It's not fair," Dustil complained.

"Of course it isn't," Ev replied, "Nothing about a Jedi's life is fair, except for the way we are supposed to treat people. Like it or not, we made mistakes before, and now we have to make up for it."

They passed by the two stone pillars marking the entrance to the valley and turned into the narrow, winding path towards the back entrance of the Sith Academy.

"What if there are Sith still inside there?" Dustil asked warily.

"There aren't," Ev answered definitively. Dustil had long learned to trust Ev's senses. She was never wrong. Though, he often forgot just how powerful and acute her connection to the Force was. Still, he hardly felt any better about returning to the academy that almost made him a Sith. If not for Ev, he would have stayed on the wrong side of the war and probably ended up dead.

They walked along the path without speaking. The crunching of their boots on the dusty earth and the wind whistling through the pass were the only sounds. As they passed the shyrack nesting cave, Ev stopped abruptly and stared into its shadowy depths. A shyrack's squeal echoed from deep inside.

"This will be my test," Ev murmured, barely audible.

Dustil felt it too. Somewhere, deep in that cave, something was calling out to Ev.

"Come on, let's get to the academy," Ev started again and continued around the last bend to the back gate. Dustil hastily followed.

As the bowed stone figures flanking the doorway came into view for the first time in over a year, Dustil involuntarily shrunk back. He used to imagine that they were bowing to him, an ascendant Sith student, destined to become a great Dark Jedi. Now, they seemed ghostly and terrifying.

Ev stopped several meters from the doorway and glanced at Dustil beside her. "Here, inside is your test, Dustil," she said, "I want you to go in there and see what you find. Meditate. Explore the ruins of the academy, but, more importantly, explore the ruins of your old self."

Dustil swallowed hard but met her gaze with as much confidence as he could muster.

"Meet me back at the _Ebon Hawk_ in the valley when you are ready to leave," Ev finished.

"Aren't you coming in with me?" Dustil asked suddenly. Going into the academy alone was not part of the original bargain.

"No," Ev replied firmly with a gentle shake of her head, "This is your test. I have my own demons to face here."

"Okay," Dustil nodded, taking a deep breath to calm himself, "I'll see you back at the ship later, then."

Ev smiled lightly, but It was a distracted smile. "May the Force be with you, Dustil," she said in parting, then turned back down the path.

She would be going back to the shyrack cave, Dustil realized. He often forgot that powerful Jedi like Ev were still always learning and in training, just as much as any padawan or apprentice. They just did not need a teacher to guide their learning any more. That was what made a Jedi into a real Jedi Knight, he realized.

Dustil watched her until she was out of sight around the corner and then reluctantly turned back to the doors of the academy again. He gathered all of his courage and stepped forward. One step at a time, he drew closer to the academy until, finally, he was inside.

Inside, it was quieter even than the valley. Dim light filtered in through the open doorway and narrow windows near the ceiling above. Dustil shivered again. He fumbled for his lightsaber at his belt then held it out in front of him, igniting the blade. He felt better with the weapon out before him. It cast its icy blue glow on the floor and walls around him. Above, the ceiling was lost in shadows.

Dustil continued through the training hall at the rear of the academy and down the long corridor to the central main chamber. He cringed at every noisy footstep he made that echoed down the hall.

In the main chamber, he was utterly alone. Dustil felt at a loss. He made his way towards the very middle of the room where patterns in the floor drew circular patterns to the center. There, he sat down and crossed his legs just as he had seen Master Uthar do every day in this very spot. Dustil extinguished his lightsaber and laid it on the ground beside him. It clattered against the stone before it wobbled to a rest at his side.

Breathing deeply, Dustil tried to meditate. It was nearly impossible to concentrate in this space haunted by his past.

He thought back to when he had first joined the academy. Not long after he had been given his own lightsaber, Dustil had already killed two of his fellow students in an angry fit and in hopes to impress the Sith Masters. It had worked. He was advanced and praised, but two boys were dead. He could not even remember their names now or what they had said to make him so angry. It had not mattered at the time. He had been looking for a reason to kill someone. Killing was a part of being a Sith.

Dustil felt the sudden urge to track down those two boys' families and apologize, just as Ev was doing. All at once, he understood what she was doing with all of her visits. Dustil had deprived those two boys of a future and of a chance for redemption like he had been given. For years, he had forgotten all about that, but now he was sorry.

Those were far from the last people he had killed while a student at the academy.

Another time, when some Twi'lek brute took a practice sparring match against Selene too far, Dustil jumped in to intervene and killed him right there. Selene was never very good with a lightsaber, and Dustil always felt responsible for her in one way or another.

"There you are, Dustil," a familiar voice said sweetly.

Dustil's heart twisted as he looked up to see a familiar pixie-like blond girl hurry across the dim hall towards him.

"Selene," he choked on his words, hurriedly standing to greet her while clipping his lightsaber back to his belt. _But Selene is dead. Did she survive after all? _Hope swelled in his chest. "What are you doing here?"

"I've been looking all over for you," Selene scolded gently. Strangely, she looked to be about the age they had first come to the academy. She started again, quickly and without waiting for him to answer as she always did, "You know, I've been thinking, Dustil. We should go to Korriban."

"Korriban?" Dustil asked, startled, "That's a terrible place."

"But it will be better than this hell-on-earth of Sith Cadet training camp," she argued, "You heard what that Dark Jedi said last week. We both have a connection to the Force. That means we could become Dark Jedi too. Think of the freedom and power we could have."

"'The Force shall free me'," he murmured. Suddenly it hit Dustil: he had had this conversation already once before. This was not Selene standing in front of him in flesh and blood. This was a vision of the past. He did not want to believe it, even so.

"Well, what do you think?" Selene pressed.

"No," Dustil shook his head, "That power comes at too great of a cost. The Dark Jedi tear each other apart for power. They'll kill you, Selene. You aren't strong enough for that."

"If we stay around here much longer, we will get sent off to war and killed at the battle front anyway," Selene argued.

This was not how it went the first time. Dustil agreed, and they boarded the next transport to Korriban together.

"This whole war is stupid," Dustil argued, "What are people dying for? Life is sacred, Selene."

"Dustil, you're a Sith like any of the rest of us," Selene pointed out, "Why are you talking like this all of a sudden?"

"Because I don't want to see you hurt, Selene," Dustil pleaded, "Please, let's get out of here. We can run away. The Jedi would take us and they would even treat us like people. I can't stay on a path like this towards killing people."

Selene smiled. "You're right, Dustil," she replied sweetly, "You can't." She faded away, still smiling, as insubstantial as a wisp of smoke.

Dustil lunged forward with a cry towards where she had been. Hugging his arms to his chest, he found himself caught in silent sobs. He missed Selene so much it was almost unbearable. Feelings that he had repressed for more than two years welled up to the surface again. His heart ached in his chest, threatening to rip in two. How desperately he wished that they really had gone to the Jedi together instead of the Sith. How different their lives would have been. If they had, maybe she would still be alive now.

Dustil stood alone in the dimness, crying and aching for a future that could not be.

Ev followed the pull she felt in the Force through the winding passages of the shyrack cave. The Dark Side hung like a thick fog all over everything. The shyrack must have felt it too. They avoided her as much as she avoided them.

Deep inside, there was a wide ravine in the cave floor, but the Force still pulled to her from the other side. Resolving before her in the darkness, Ev spotted a stone bridge spanning the ravine built by ancient hands. She crossed over and let the Force continue to guide her deeper and deeper in. Shivering, she felt progressively colder the farther she went.

A tall cave wall loomed up ahead of her. It seemed like the end of the line, but as she drew nearer, she could make out the outline of a great stone doorway. Nearer still, and she could see the writing engraved on the upper lintel: 'The Tomb of the Dark Lord Ludo Kressh.'

_Since when can I read ancient Sith hieroglyphs?_

Nothing should come as a surprise to her any more.

Ev felt with complete certainty that this was the place the Force was drawing her to. Just what it wanted of her there remained to be seen. Trusting in the Force, she stepped through the doorway and into the tomb.

She held her glow rod higher to illuminate more of the passage, but there was little to see. Bare walls framed a long passage that climbed gently to a heavy stone door at the other end. Ev continued purposely forward, all the while wondering what the purpose of this trip was for her. What could she discover here that would give light to the bewildering path that lay ahead of her?

Ev had no proof that the Sith, or any other enemy for that matter, were coming to attack the Republic again, but something inside of her _knew_ it was true. She had only fragments of memories and elusive hints to that end, but she could not risk that it was false. Even if it was true, what could she do to stop it? Where were the enemies in the first place? Who were they? Even Revan could not stop something she could not find.

Was she better off remaining with the Jedi, trying to earn their respect so that she could advise them when the time of trouble came? Was she better off staying on Coruscant, close to Carth? He brought stability to Ev's life where there was none without him. If she left Republic space in search of an unknown threat, did she trust herself to walk the right path alone?

One thing that was without question was this: if she left, she would go alone. Whatever danger that lurked out beyond the known regions of space, whatever danger it was that had scared Revan, Ev could not risk any of those she loved to it. She was Revan. She was powerful. Whatever danger Revan could not handle alone, any army of followers would not be able to handle either. Her own neck was the only neck she dared to risk.

Ev reached the huge stone door. It was built like most of the other doors in the the valley. She pressed her palm firmly against the large keystone in the center of the door. It responded to the pressure and, grating noisily, slid apart. Holding her glow rod high, Ev stepped into the dusty chamber beyond.

With a metallic roar of rage, Darth Malak leaped out of the shadows, lightsaber blazing.

Ev cast aside her glow rod and both of her lightsabers were in her hands in an instant. She blocked Malak's blow over her head, groaning under the impact.

"So you have come at last, my old master," Malak taunted. "But the Light Side has weakened you. You are hardly a shadow of Darth Revan. I am the most powerful now."

_Malak is dead. I killed him myself. This is just a vision. _Ev had to remind herself.

"Powerful," Ev replied through gritted teeth. Still, his saber bore down against her two blades crossed above her head. "But at what cost Malak? The Dark Side has already destroyed you."

Finally Malak relented, leaping back and swinging in for another pass. Ev whirled out of the way. Now free of the doorway, she had room to move. The duel began in earnest.

Malak charged in again, taunting her, "You think you have grown more powerful, but you still are nothing compared to what you were before. Without freeing your passions, without the Dark Side, you will never be strong enough to face what you are after."

"You know what I'm after," Ev said, blocking another powerful blow, "You went with me into the Unknown Regions. You know what I found there."

"You know of ways to make the Jedi Council talk," Malak countered, "You could make them help you undo what they did. They never really erased your mind. They just buried it. You have the power to reclaim it."

"I will not use tools of the Dark Side to get what I want this time," Ev asserted, delivering a flurry of blows at Malak, who blocked every one.

"Then you are doomed to weakness, Revan," Malak snarled, "You are doomed to fail in your quest when your power is not enough. Without the power of the Dark Side, you will fail, Revan. You knew that last time."

"Last time?" Ev panted, dancing back away from Malak's charge.

"Embrace the Dark Side. Use it," Malak urged, "Don't be a fool any more and simply let the Light Side use you. You need its power. Without it, you can't even defeat me."

"I have learned that the Light Side will always triumph over the Dark," Ev declared, "What may appear to be a weakness is really a strength. My strength in the Light Side will be enough."

Malak stepped back and lowered his guard. "Will it?" he asked. Ev lunged, slicing through him. Her saber met no resistance, cutting through him as easily as cutting through air. He disappeared, a spirit on the musty breeze, his final words echoing off the cavern walls, "_Will it?"_

Trembling, Ev extinguished her lightsabers and hung them back on her belt.

_Will it?_

Dustil paced restlessly through the academy. His nerves were on edge. He did not need to see another vision of a dead friend. That was too much to bear. He would rather encounter a live Sith still lurking the ruins.

Glowing lightsaber still in hand, he turned towards the library and slipped through the ajar door. Lashowe was sitting at one of the study tables, scanning over something on her holo disk reader. She looked up as he entered. "Oh, hi Dustil," she said in greeting, "How has your training been going lately?"

_It's just another vision_, Dustil had to remind himself. _Lashowe isn't really back here on Korriban with me. She's on Coruscant with the others._ "Fine, I guess," Dustil admitted awkwardly, still lingering near the doorway, "Ev is a really great teacher. I'm learning a lot from her."

"I'm a bit jealous," Lashowe replied, "I wish I had a master already."

"I'm really lucky she picked me," Dustil nodded, feeling a bit guilty. Of the group of ex-Sith trainees at the Jedi Temple, only Snow, Shasa, and himself had been chosen to become padawans, and that was only by the somewhat eccentric Jedi heroes who had destroyed the Star Forge. All three of them had lived through more than just a minor brush with the Dark Side.

"How much longer do you think you'll be her padawan?" Lashowe asked.

"Oh, at least five more years, maybe more than that," Dustil estimated. Most people did not get knighted until their mid twenties.

"Seriously?" Lashowe asked in mild disgust, "You'd be a full dark Jedi right now if you had stayed with Master NAME on Korriban. You're good, Dustil, and everybody there knew it."

"The Jedi do things differently," Dustil pointed out, "They don't knight their students as quickly. They're a lot more careful with their training."

"Do you really think it's better this way?" Lashowe asked pointedly, "Force is supposed to free us, not hold us back."

"Lashowe, that's Sith teaching," Dustil warned, "The Jedi say that the Force brings harmony."

"How can you feel harmonious when you know that the Jedi training is tying you down?" Lashowe asked, "Look at me. At this rate, I'll never be a full Jedi. I'll be student, chained to the kriffing Jedi Temple for the rest of my life."

Dustil did not point out that the Jedi Agricorps were a more likely sentence for her. It was better that she did not know, for the moment anyway.

"What do you think is holding you back?" Lashowe asked, "Why won't she just turn around and knight you right now? And I don't mean just because the Jedi don't do that kind of thing."

"Well," Dustil started thoughtfully, "She says I really have learned a lot. I think I mostly have a handle on the Jedi teachings and why they're better than what the Sith fed us, but I don't have the control she does. I can't always get the Force to do what I want it to. I never even get close to scoring points on Ev in dueling practice—except for when she's zoned out. I just can't coordinate myself the way she does. Ev says that I'm trying to hard to use the Force rather than letting it flow through me and use me."

"Why shouldn't we use the Force?" Lashowe demanded, "It's a powerful tool, but the way the Jedi teach us, we can't even grip the hilt."

"It seems like that's not the way it's supposed to be done," Dustil defended Ev's teachings meekly, "There's a better way to do it. I just haven't figured it out yet."

"Dustil, you know as well as all the rest of us do," Lashowe said impatiently, "Feelings and passion are the way to take the tuk'ata by the horns. The other day, when Master Kavar was leading our lightsaber class, he was telling me how my technique was too sloppy, and you know what? It ticked me off. I got mad and I used that. I was stronger, faster, and more focused, and I beat that son of a gundark. You should have seen the look on his face. He was so surprised. But then he had the nerve to chew me out for it. If a Jedi Master is allowed to get mad at me for that, why aren't I allowed to get mad too?"

"Because he knows how to control his anger," Dustil replied quickly. He respected Master Kavar and he was not about to let Lashowe slander him. "Because he didn't use it for anything destructive. If you had gotten out of control, you could have killed him."

"But I didn't," Lashowe countered, "I know how to control my anger. I know how to use it. And I would if they'd let me."

"And you'll never be taken as a padawan as long as you keep acting like that," Dustil retorted frustratedly. He would never say such things to the real Lashowe, but he had wanted to so many times before. "You're dangerous, reckless, and you'll never make a decent Jedi if you don't decide to act like one. Good decisions only come from clear, calm minds. Jedi can't help people if they're letting their passions loose all the time."

"Try it Dustil," Lashowe urged, "Just once. I dare you to act like a Sith and use all that training you got on Korriban. Use the power your passions give you and see if you can't beat Ev too. If you prove you can do it, she'll have to seriously start training you on double sabers, just like you want her to."

The idea tempted him. Before, Ev had promised to start him on two lightsabers, but she had been so busy that she never had. Dustil still brought it up regularity, hopefully, but she always said he was not ready yet. All the same, Ev was one of the best duelists in the entire Jedi Order. She had to know best. He trusted her. "No," Dustil said firmly, "I want to be a Jedi like Ev, and I want to do it right. I don't just want power any more. I want to lead a good life, serving the galaxy, just like my dad, just like Ev."

"If that's what you really want," Lashowe said with a sarcastic smile, "Good luck. You'll need it."

Like Selene before her, Lashowe simply faded away, leaving an eerily empty library behind her. Dustil shuddered and backed out of the room and back into the hallway.

After fighting her way through a next of shyrack spawn, Ev was alone in the silent tomb again. One meandering corridor led to the next, each decorated with chipped carvings and flaking murals lauding the great Ludo Kressh. She let the tugging sensation in the Force lead her through the maze of passages. The closer she got to her goal, the more fatigue grew in her. The Dark Side energies all around her all but drained her of her energy.

Ev passed through another of the great stone doors into a long hall with deep pits dropping off on either side of the walkway. The door slammed shut behind her. A sudden feeling of foreboding crept over Ev. That was never a good sign. Turning back to the path ahead of her, she saw a robed figure waiting on the wide landing where walkway turned around a corner.

Ev rested her right hand on the cool hilt of one of her lightsabers and advanced cautiously. The Dark Side all around her muddied her senses, but she could not make out the presence of anyone else near by, good or evil. It had to be another vision of the tomb, another test of her character.

As she drew nearer and the man came within the outer range of the light of her glow rod, she could make out his unmistakable brown Jedi robes, shock of dark hair, and closely trimmed beard. "Master Waykennit," Ev realized out loud. Why would her subconscious bring him here to test her? He had been an informal master and adviser to her for the last several months, but no more than that.

"Ev, I am glad to see you," he began with all the warmth he that usually greeted her, but there was concern in his eyes, "I was beginning to wonder if I would see you again."

"What do you mean?" Ev asked, "I have been continually thankful for your help."

"Ev, well, how do I put this?" Embrik started haltingly, "I sense a feeling that—I sense that you wish to leave us."

"Master Waykennit," Ev started, "Leaving the Jedi for the Sith again has never crossed my mind."

"No, that is not what I fear for you, Ev," Embrik clarified, taking a step closer, "You wish to strike out on your own and face a challenge, a quest, that you think only you are equal to."

Ev did not answer. She had never put it into those terms herself, but he was right. _I really am the only one who can do this. If I don't, no one will._

"Ev, I beg you not to go alone," he pleaded, "Whatever it is, it is too dangerous to risk yourself on. We cannot replace you, Ev. If you were to approach the Jedi Council, maybe they could put you at the head of an expedition. The Jedi have resources to help you."

"No," Ev shook her head, "The Council would shackle me with their fear and mistrust as they always do. They would brush off my fears. I don't want them to know I'm remembering. I am grateful for your support, Embrik, but you aren't on the council any more, and they don't trust me."

"But you can't go alone!" Mission suddenly interjected. There she was, standing with Zaalbar, to Master Waykennit's left. "Ev, you can't."

"Mission, you don't understand," Ev argued.

"And no one will understand if you don't tell them, right?" she pointed out.

"Say the word, and I will come with you, Ev Pell," Zaalbar rumbled, "I owe you my life and I will protect yours as you go into the unknown."

"And where Big Z goes, I go," Mission added.

"No, both of you, no," Ev replied firmly, "Zaalbar, you are needed on Kashyyyk right now far more than I need you. And Mission, where I'm going is no place for you."

"Are you calling me some incompetent kid?" Mission accused, "You should know by now that I pull my own weight."

"I know! All the same, I can't take you with me. It's too dangerous," Ev argued, "And besides, you want to stay with Zaalbar, don't you? I can't let him come with me. He's too important in the development of Kashyyyk right now."

"This old man could leave Kashyyyk any time and no one would miss his meddling," Jolee offered, appearing next to Zaalbar. "What good am I doing here anyway? Babysitting a bunch of Wookiees? Hrumph."

"Jolee, I can't ask you to go with me either," Ev argued.

"You and that destiny of yours," Jolee said, "I want to be around when it happens."

"Me and my destiny might get you and a lot of other folks killed," Ev replied impatiently, "No."

"You know I will follow you to the ends of the universe," Juhani promised smoothly, "You need not even ask me." She stood calmly on the other side of Embrik Waykennit, golden eyes boring into Ev.

"Juhani," Ev said, feeling a pang of regret. The Cathar's intense loyalty would leave her with intense disappointment when she left. _When I leave? Did I decide to go already?_

"Ev, you are a person that I respect and admire greatly," Juhani continued, "I cannot allow you to walk into dangerous territory alone."

"Juhani, I promise I can handle myself," Ev pleaded, "I can't risk both my life and yours."

"And that is why I must go with you," Juhani replied, "So that is only my life you are risking."

"Juhani," Ev tried to argue with her. "This is something I have to do, and I don't want to put anyone else through it. I don't know what I am up against."

"Then why are you so convinced that you need to go?" Bastila demanded, standing next to Juhani.

"That's something I shouldn't have to explain to you, Bastila," Ev replied, "You can sense it in me. I feel this compulsion, this fear, that I can't explain."

"Oh, should I?" Bastila sounded resentful and concerned all at once, "I don't know how you're doing it, but you are isolating yourself from me. I can't sense you over our bond as well as I used to. I know you're hurting. Why are you doing this? Why are you isolating yourself from everyone?"

"I don't want you to worry about me," Ev replied.

"I already am, Ev," Bastila said and sighed. "Please, don't do this to yourself any more," she begged, "I am here for you. We share a bond through the Force. I understand you better than anyone else. Please let me back into your life Ev. I want to help you. I don't want to leave the Jedi behind, but I will go with you. We are bound together, Ev. Use that to help you."

"Bastila, you have your own life, you're own future," Ev replied, "Our bonding was a lucky mistake. I need you to stay behind to look after Juhani, Dustil, and—"

"Ev, beautiful," said a voice that sent shivers down her spine.

"And Carth," she finished, her heart sinking to the bottom of her stomach. She didn't want to turn to the newest addition to her group of visitors. How could she possibly face Carth.

"I don't know why you feel the need to leave," Carth continued regretfully, meeting her gaze with a look that almost brought tears to Ev's eyes, "But please, Ev, don't leave me behind."

"Carth, I—" the words caught in her throat.

"Ev, after all these years I lived alone, with nothing to live for but revenge, now I have you," he continued, "I love you Ev. You have given me something to live for, and I'm not sure I can live without you now. I need you in my life, Ev. I will give up everything for you, even my life, if I have to."

"And that's why I can't bring you—or anyone else along!" Ev exclaimed in a half-sob with more force than she expected, "Carth, you'd just go and do something stupid and get yourself killed for my sake. I have enough deaths on my record, I couldn't go on if yours was added to the list. Sometimes I can barely keep going even now. I need to do this to atone for what I've done. I need to do everything I can to prevent the same thing from happening again. I am Revan! It is my destiny to take on the deepest, darkest things in the galaxy so that no one else has to."

"Ev, please," Carth pleaded.

"Please," Bastila echoed.

"Please," Juhani repeated, and all the rest of the specters of her friends after her.

"I am going some place that I can't take anyone I love with me," Ev said quietly, staring at the dark, stone floor at her feet.

"Don't go alone," Carth's voice pleaded.

"Hey Ev, wait!" Dustil's voice startled Ev. She turned and saw him running up the walkway from where she had come.

"Dustil, what are you doing here?" Ev asked, "I told you to meet me back at the _Ebon Hawk _you were ready."

"Ev, please don't leave me," Dustil panted as he reached her, "I'm your padawan. You have to finish training me, or I'll never become a Jedi."

"How did you—" Ev started, then caught herself, "You, of all people, aren't ready to follow me into the darkness. You're improving a lot, but even I can't protect you from what I'm headed into. You hardly need me any more, though. You're almost ready to take your training into your own hands."

"You think so?" Dustil asked eagerly. "But I'll miss you."

"Bastila will take care of you," Ev replied. "She's a good teacher."

"We'll all miss you," Dustil said, then faded away like a wraith in the mist.

Ev blinked twice to clear her vision. _So Dustil was a vision too. _turned around and found that the visions of her other friends were gone as well. She took a deep breath and let it out in a shaky sigh. As long as Dustil passed the test of Korriban, he would be ready. Ev would have few regrets leaving him behind. Carth on the other hand...

_I can't say goodbye to Carth._

Dustil wandered into the deserted halls of the dormitories where he and his friends had once resided. There were times when it was hard to believe that this had even been his life. Walking here, through the abandoned academy, felt almost surreal. Living at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, training under Ev, his Sith past felt unreachable distant.

He turned down the corridor towards his old room. He remembered the morning he prepared to leave for good. His small team of rebels, knowing of the approaching Republic force, had prayed together to the Force for mercy and good luck, then followed Ev's lead through the temple, killing all who got in their way. It was not a day Dustil ever wanted to think about again, but here it was. Killing his classmates who stayed with the Sith was not something he could be proud of. Dustil knew things like that happened in war, and he did chose the right side in the end, but he hated that the turning point in his life towards becoming a Jedi was a day of carnage.

Dustil's old room was in a back corner, without any kind of door, just like all the other student rooms. It was amazing how little privacy he had had then. It was as if the academy invited students to assassinate their rivals in their sleep. Dustil stared at his bed and the broken and looted footlocker that had once contained all he owned. It felt unreal.

The Force suddenly nudged Dustil with a sense of urgent foreboding. He whirled around, lightsaber in hand, just in time to catch the downward strike of a Force pike. His attacker was masked and dressed all in grays and black. He snarled at Dustil from behind his mask and lunged in for another pass. Two more attackers, dressed and armed identically to the first, materialized out of shimmering air, deactivating their stealth field generators.

Panic surged through Dustil. He fought desperately, somehow managing to keep his lightsaber between himself and the weapons of his three enemies. _Ev said there weren't any Sith still in the ruins! How could she have been wrong? Why did she have to leave me here alone?_ He gave a forceful Shove through the Force. Two of the attackers toppled backwards, but one managed to remain standing. Giving another snarl, he charged at Dustil. The other two were quickly back on their feet, rushing back into the fight again.

Breathing raggedly, Dustil tried to open himself up to the Force completely, letting the Force use him as Ev constantly advised, but he felt too shaken. He grasped for the Force, but it slipped away. It only came in spurts, moment by moment and attack by attack.

Swinging his lightsaber wildly, Dustil felt the cool, stone wall connect with his back. Another surge of terror shot up his spine. He was backed into a corner and there was not any way out. Faltering for just an instant, one of the attackers swung in high and struck his right shoulder. He barely managed to catch his lightsaber in his left hand as the sharp impact jarred it from his right. The throbbing raced down his arm from his shoulder, growing into numbness. His right arm was practically unusable.

Unpracticed with his left, Dustil began to feel even more desperate. "Ev!" he cried out, his voice cracking to an unnaturally high pitch, "Help me!" He could not sense her anywhere near by.

The attackers bore in closer. Dustil ducked out of the way of a swinging Force pike. Lurching off-balance, he ducked himself into a roll. Although he landed hard on his right shoulder, he came back up with a grunt, away from the wall where he had been cornered. His feeling of release was short-lived, however. Backing away from the attackers again, he tripped up against the foot of his old bed. He was still cornered in his room without a way out.

"Ev! Help!" he yelled again, fear rising to a breaking point within him.

But Ev was not there. She was not anywhere.

Suddenly it all clicked into place. "This is the future," Dustil realized out loud. _A future Ev isn't part of_...

As he spoke those words, the three assassins vanished as abruptly as they had appeared.

Dustil's knees gave way beneath him and he sunk down onto the end of the bed behind him. He was still panting and shaking hard. "It was just a vision," he tried to reassure himself. But it felt like a pass with death.

Somehow he knew that those attackers were a part of his future to come and Ev would not be. It felt like a warning, and not a very distant one at that. He felt renewed resolve to learn to wield his lightsaber with both hands. If this attack was coming again, he had to be ready or he really would die at the next encounter.

But no Ev? Dustil knew he was still far from knighthood. He should still have several more years at least under her tutelage, but that was not what it had felt like.

No, but she had her research. Dustil never asked her, but it was clear that whatever it was she was pursuing was more than just for academic curiosity. Soon, she would come to a point where all the archives on Coruscant would not satisfy her. Ev was leaving, and soon.

The whole thought left him feeling empty inside, but he knew it had to be true. He stood shakily. He wondered momentarily if he had passed his test, but realized he did not care any more. He was done with this academy and all its horrors. He was ready to leave it all behind him for good.

Putting one foot out in front of the other, he began walking again, silvery lightsaber hilt clenched tightly in his sweaty hand for comfort.

The Darkness swirling around Ev grew thicker and stronger as she continued through the tomb. She knew she must be drawing close to its center, the chamber holding the remains of the Sith Lord Ludo Kressh. The Dark Side washed over her in waves, making her dizzy, almost giddy with it. It threatened to intoxicate her if she let it, but she could not. Every moment she resisted it, she felt weaker and weaker.

"This is my test," she said grimly, pressing forward with all her energy. The power of the Dark Side was so heavy she could hardly reach the Light Side of the Force at all any more. It was thrilling and terrifying at once. "Ludo Kressh must have been some Sith Lord to leave a taint like this," she murmured. "It's like I can hardly breathe."

Her glow rod cast its feeble light on a great stone doorway ahead. It was the end of the corridor and the only place to go. _This must be it._ The door was more intricately carved than any other in the entire tomb. Cast metal brackets that must have once held torches flanked the door and an army of stone figures prostrated themselves inward all along the door posts and lintels. Ev stepped forward and pressed the center stone in the door. It slid away, grating and grinding stone against stone.

Ev raised her glow rod high to get a better look at the room and reached out with the Force. Amid the oppressive Dark Side energies, she felt almost blind.

The crypt was surprisingly small, given the grandeur of the rest of the tomb complex. Large earthenware pots in alcoves around the circular chamber undoubtedly had once held the food, drinks, and treasures that the deceased Sith Lord would need to enjoy his afterlife. The sarcophagus was modest in size, yet gilded and decorated with an impressive array of gem stones. Looking over it all from the back of the chamber was a great stone Sith statue with arms outstretched.

Ev stepped inside hesitantly. Instantly, the stone door closed in behind her with a loud crack. Ev started at it, startled, and braced herself for another vision of the tomb. Turning around, she found an unfamiliar figure sitting proudly on an immense throne in front of the sarcophagus that had not been there before. He wore heavy, black robes draped with ceremonial armor that finned out wide from his shoulders. A tall, cylindrical had, resembling a crown rested on his brow. His face was red and angular with two beard-like tentacles hanging off his jowls. He looked just like the red-faced figures in the flaking murals all over Ludo Kressh's tomb. This was a Sith, a true Sith like the galaxy had not known since the Great Hyperspace War. Ev balked at that realization but tried her best not to show it. The Sith on the throne's yellow eyes gleamed as he grimaced wickedly at her.

"So it is Revan," he observed menacingly in a language that Ev had never heard before and yet understood, "You have returned." He paused, looking her over with disapproval. "And yet you return alone and empty-handed. Where is what you promised me?"

"I don't know," Ev replied cautiously.

"You failed me, Revan, didn't you?" he whispered dangerously.

_Those yellow eyes. _Ev was immobilized under his gaze. She could not find any words to answer.

"Why have you failed?" he roared, raising his hand and clenching it into a fist.

Ev felt her air way constrict. She coughed, absently pawing at her neck as if that would make it subside. "I don't...know," she eeked out weakly, "The Jedi... they changed me. They, they... erased my memories..." Ev could say no more. She began to feel dizzy for a lack of air.

_No, you can't die here, Ev. _She reminded herself. She reached out into the Force, grasping and whatever she could. The Dark Side was still hanging like a heavy curtain between her and her source of power, but she found a trickle. She pulled at it with all of her will and concentrated it towards her throat, willing it to open and resist the choking hold of the Sith. Growing even more light headed, Ev found it harder and harder to concentrate. She dropped into the edge of a trance-like state, lessening her need for oxygen. Barely conscious of the world around her, she forced outward with everything she had left. Her air way opened and she gasped for air.

Ev opened her eyes and found herself collapsed to her knees on the floor. She did not remember falling. Her head pounded, her chest throbbed, and her knees ached, but she was alive.

"Good, good," the Sith hissed, "You may be a useful servant to me yet, Revan." He let out a triumphant, evil laugh. He disappeared into the darkness, his throne with him, but his laughter echoed off the walls of the crypt long after his vision was gone.

Ev remained on the floor, panting and absently massaging her throat. Was that Ludo Kressh himself or some other Sith entirely? He said she was returning that she had promised him something, but where and what? The True Sith were still out there, is that what her vision was trying to confirm.

She felt the oppressive darkness around her abate and a ray of daylight trickled down from a jagged hole in the ceiling of the chamber. "Is that it?" Ev coughed, "Have I passed?"

Ev knew at her core that that was not a vision of some long dead Sith Lord. He was alive and still out there, and he was waiting for Revan to fulfill her promise, whatever it was. He was terrifying and evil; a far worse Sith—a true Sith—than Revan or Malak had ever been. Ev could not remember it now, but she knew she had met him before, if the vision spoke true, and she knew that she had to go meet him again, to whatever end. This was the task that only she could perform. She, and no one else, was Revan.

Ev stood weakly to her feet and looked up at the hole in the ceiling above her. She would much rather take that way out than return through the tomb again. _One good Force Jump aught to do it._ She let the Force pour into her again, braced herself, and leaped.

Ev approached the _Ebon Hawk _through Valley of the Dark Lords, eager to be off Korriban again. The world seemed like a lifeless graveyard in the dull, gray twilight. HK-47 stood at attention beneath the _Ebon Hawk's _hull, head swiveling in rhythmic awareness. As she drew near, he announced, "Statement: Your student has already returned and boarded the ship, Master."

"Thank you HK," Ev replied wearily, "You didn't see anything else while we were gone?"

"Statement: Negative," he replied, "This world is dead as a grave, master."

Ev nodded. "Do one more check of the ship and get on board," she ordered, "We're getting out of here."

"Statement: Yes Master," HK acknowledged.

Ev herself hurried up the loading ramp. T3-M4 greeted her at the top with a series of excited tweets that almost sounded relieved. "Yes, I'm fine," Ev reassured the little astromech, "The ship is ready to go?"

T3-M4 gave an affirmative chirp and rolled off towards the engine room.

"Ev, you're back," Dustil hurried out to greet her. His excitement faded when he saw her. "You don't look so good," he observed.

"Neither do you," Ev replied. "But Korriban will take its toll."

Dustil nodded in understanding.

"Come on," Ev urged, "HK will be back on board in a minute. Let's get this ship in space. Then we can breathe easy again."

"Fine," Dustil agreed. He looked just as eager as she was to get away from the dead Sith world.

Dustil followed at her heels to the cockpit and slid into the copilot's seat beside her. He was becoming a decent pilot. He would never be as good as either Ev or his father, but Dustil was already a reliable copilot. The ship's security feed alerted her that the loading ramp was retracting and HK-47 was aboard.

Ev powered up the _Ebon Hawk _and then engaged the repulsorlifts. She sensed Dustil was both eager and reluctant to discuss what he had experienced. She let him have his peace. They would have three days in hyperspace to talk on their way back to Coruscant. There was no rush.

She fired up the main thrusters and jetted out of the valley, climbing through the atmosphere. It did not take long until they were out in space and soaring out of the planet's gravity well. Dustil held his pensive silence all the while.

"Alright," Ev said, finishing her calculations, "Coordinates are set for our jump to Coruscant. Engage the hyperdrive."

"I'm on it," Dustil replied and drew down the switch. The _Ebon Hawk _accelerated until the stars drew out long lines around them and they snapped into the swirling blue of hyperspace.

Ev leaned back and sighed heavily. Turning to Dustil, she asked, "Hungry?"

He nodded.

"What me to whip up something on the synthesizer in the back?" Ev offered.

"Better you than me," Dustil laughed, "Usually the stuff you make at least tastes like food."

"Alright," Ev said and pulled herself up out of the seat. She headed for the cargo hold where the ship's bulky food synthesizer was kept and Dustil followed shortly after her. Ev bit at her lip as she punched at the touch pad. It was pathetic that one of the fastest ships in the galaxy had a food system that was not worth its weight in bantha fodder.

"Um, so," Dustil started noncommittally.

"Do you want to talk about what happened down there?" Ev asked.

"Yeah, I guess," he replied. Ev sensed emotional pain in him. She could guess some of what Korriban had shown him.

"You don't have to tell me about every detail of it," Ev qualified, "I can sense that it tested you to the very edge of your will and that you passed."

Dustil met eyes with Ev. "I'd say the same about you," he replied.

Ev cracked a weak smile. "And we've got a few days to recover before we have to act presentably at the Jedi Temple again," she said.

Dustil stared at her, searching. She could feel him probing with the Force in uncertainty. He was worried. Finally, he mustered his courage and asked, "You're leaving, aren't you?"

Ev looked away. _Was I really that transparent when I hadn't even decided, myself?_

"I thought so," Dustil sighed, "I thought that was what that vision was trying to tell me."

"I hadn't decided until just today, but," she admitted, still not looking at him, "But, please don't tell your father."

"I won't," Dustil promised. He seemed to understand. "But what about me? Why can't you at least finish my training or take me with you?"

"Because where I'm going, I don't dare take anyone I love with me," Ev replied, finally meeting his gaze again. "The place my search will take me—the task set before me is one only I can do."

"Then I'll never be a Jedi," Dustil sighed.

"Dustil, you're ready to go on learning without me," Ev pointed out, "That was your Trial of the Spirit, and you passed. You already faced your Trial of the Flesh, and dealing with my disappearance will be that test for you all over again. In the days ahead, I'm sure you will refine your skills so that you will pass that trial in time, but the hardest part is already over for you. Bastila lost her master before she was ready to be knighted and she still proved herself all the same. Go to Bastila for help when you need it. She will take care of you. She is already a very good teacher."

"Thanks for putting so much faith in me, Ev," Dustil said, "We'll all miss you, though."

"I'll miss you too, more than I can say," Ev admitted, "But the life of a Jedi is one of denying yourself for the greater good."

"I hope," Dustil stammered, "I hope, that after all this, you can find what you're looking for."

"And I hope that by the time I return, you will be the great Jedi Knight I see in you," Ev said encouragingly and patted him on the shoulder.


	20. Chapter 20

Part 20- The Road to Rediscovery

Ev's eyes stared out through the tinted slit of a mask that they had countless times before, yet her mind remembered almost none of it. Weighed down by armor, leather, and heavy robes, Ev felt powerful. She felt like more than just herself. She felt, like she had so many times before, that innumerable lost memories were just below the surface, waiting to break out. And still they did not.

Revan, Roan'ev, Evrue Pell, Ev Onasi, these were all names, and the names were hers. Each meant something different. Each was a different person under the same skin. The duplicity was staggering.

Without those memories, Ev would forever be fragmented within herself, weak. How could she hope to face the task ahead of her with less than her full self? She had to remember. Only with her whole mind as one, unifying four identities into one, would she be complete. And when that happened, who, really, would she be?

Willing herself to remember never succeeded. Seemingly random triggers were often the cause of her waking visions. Ev thought back to Dantooine. That had been different. The wound in the Force that was left there by a terrible loss of life cried out to her. It wanted her to remember a day she had not even been present for.

_How much more powerful would it be for a place that I had been therewhen everything died._

Seeking out old battle grounds from the Mandalorian Wars and Jedi Civil War where she had played a part would be a start. Ev had to hope that her trickle of memories returning would become a deluge once the flood gates to her past were opened.

The more she thought about it, the more Ev was certain that the Sith in her vision in the tomb on Korriban was a part of the threat she feared. More mysteries remained than answers. Who was he? Where was he? What did he want? What was she failing to bring him even now?

The door to Ev's room swung open. It was never locked. Bastila started in greeting as she pushed it open, "Ev, I was wondering how your trip to—"

Bastila hardly managed to contain her gasped shriek before she frantically slammed the door behind her. Her face was ghostly pale and her hands trembled, hovering over the long hilt of her lightsaber that hung from her belt.

The shriek jarred Ev out of her contemplative trance. She quickly brushed back her deep hood and lifted off the mask. "Bastila, it's me," she reassured quickly.

Although she relaxed her hands away from her lightsaber, Bastila hardly seemed reassured.

"I thought—I thought you..." Bastila started, still shaken. Ev could almost hear her heart racing from across the small bedroom. "What—what is this? Where did you find it?"

"On Dantooine," Ev admitted warily, pulling off her heavy leather gloves and dropping them on the bed beside her. Even through their bond, thinned as it was, Ev could not sense how Bastila would react. "I found where they kept me prisoner."

Bastila pursed her lips. _She knew about that place_, Ev realized. "But why?" Bastila asked in a hoarse whisper.

"This," she said, spreading her arms wide, "and this mask, they are a key to my past. I need to remember, and this just might help me."

"Ev, all you will find in your past is pain," Bastila pleaded, color beginning to come back to her face and strength back to her voice. "You don't need to go there."

Ev clenched her fist and laid it against her own chest. "Bastila, I have this big hole inside of me where my past should be," she replied emphatically, "It nags at me. It makes me feel like less than a full person. Every day it gets worse as I realize just how much I don't know about me. I can't bear it any more, pretending that it doesn't matter."

"Concentrate on building your future from here," Bastila pleaded, "not reconstructing your past. The life you have built for yourself now is one you should be proud of."

"That was only for the last, what, two years?" Ev pointed out, "Bastila, I'm thirty-one years old, if the records can be believed. That's twenty-nine years I have lost."

"Can't you do this another way?" Bastila asked urgently, "I'm afraid for you, Ev."

"If there's another way, please tell me," Ev replied helplessly.

Ev's comlink twittered noisily on the bedside table. She reached over and picked it up, seeing Carth's name on the screen. "It's Carth," she told Bastila, conflicting emotions raging inside of her. Holding it up, she answered, "Carth!"

"Hey Beautiful," Carth replied over the comlink, "I know this is short notice, but I just got some leave and I'm back on Coruscant for the next couple of days."

Ev's heart soared and sank all at once. "Really, that's great," she replied, trying not to sound forced. "You know, I've still got the _Ebon Hawk _up here at the Temple. I should bring it back to you. Where are you staying tonight?"

"In the Skylite Hotel, near the Temple district," Carth replied. "If you're not busy, I was thinking we could meet for dinner at the Skylite's tower restaurant."

"That sounds great," Ev replied. "I'll see you there in an hour or so, then?"

"See you then, love," Carth replied, and hung up.

Bastila still stood with her back against the door, staring warily at Ev, who was still draped in the black robes of a Sith Lord.

"It looks like I have a date tonight," Ev started awkwardly.

"Ev, please, take care of yourself."

"Juhani, I know this is sudden, but—" Bastila started, having pulled her Cathar friend out of a meditation session with her Selkath padawan. Juhani left Shasa to meditate alone while Bastila and Juhani stole into another open meditation chamber just down the hall.

"It is about Ev, is it now?" Juhani cut in.

Bastila nodded uneasily.

"I do not have the bond with her that you do," Juhani said, "But I sense that something has changed, or is about to change."

"She found all of Darth Revan's things in the ruins of the Dantooine Enclave," Bastila explained. "She wasn't expecting me, and I when I dropped in to see her, Darth Revan was sitting on her bed. I—I was shocked. I didn't know what to do. Of course it was still the same Ev, but seeing that mask again..."

"It brings you back to the day you lost your master and this whole thing began with you saving Revan," Juhani nodded gravely. "I doubt I would have reacted any better," she admitted.

"Carth is back on Coruscant, at least," Bastila said with a sigh, "Ev is on her way to see him and spend the night. I hope he can talk some sense into her, bring her feet a little closer to the ground."

"Why didn't you mention that earlier?" Juhani asked, jumping to her feet in alarm, "I have to follow her and keep watch."

"She's going to be with Carth, Juhani, she should be fine tonight," Bastila waved her off wearily. Her encounter with Ev had left her feeling drained and empty.

"Ev has been taking too many sudden, unannounced trips to dangerous places," Juhani said firmly, "This time, she brought back the artifacts of Darth Revan. What if she brings back something worse next time? I fear, as you do, that there may not be a next time, that she may leave without a word. She is losing her grip on who she is and someone need to be there to support her. I will do this when there is no one else."

"Carth is her biggest supporter, Juhani," Bastila pointed out, "You know that."

"And as the one that she loves the most, there will be many things she cannot say to him," Juhani pointed out.

Bastila sighed and nodded. She knew Ev better than anyone else, and through their bond, she knew all of that to be true.

"Please, give my apologies to Shasa," Juhani said, heading for the door, "I must shadow Ev tonight. I hope she is too distracted to notice me. Where is she meeting Carth?"

"The Skylite Tower Restaurant," Bastila answered. "May the Force be with you, Juhani."

"And you with," Juhani said from the door, "And Ev as well."

"Juhani, I hope we're wrong about all this," Bastila replied.

"I do too," Juhani said softly, and she was gone.

The Mon Calamari waiter led Ev on a winding path to the window-side table where Carth waited. Carth cracked a smile as he saw her approach, hips swaying with each step. She smiled slyly back at him. She knew that she was dressed to kill. Carth had not seen her bare so much skin—in public—since they infiltrated the Sith party back on Taris. Come to think of it, the slinky bias-cut plum halter dress with a glittering gemstone neckline looked to be exactly the same dress. Her dark skin seemed radiant against the shimmering two-tone silk, and her short hair was intentionally styled to compliment the sharp angles of her face.

Carth grinned, knowing how un-Jedi-like it all was and that she had done it just for him.

"Right this way, ma'am," the waiter pronounced, pulling out the chair across from Carth for her.

"Thank you," Ev nodded politely and took her seat.

The Mon Cal took the artfully folded linen napkin from atop her plate and shook it out sharply, then laid it across her lap. Ev again nodded her thanks. "Your server will be with you momentarily," he announced, and strode off.

"Is that the dress you got on Taris?" Carth asked immediately, "You look beautiful tonight."

Ev smiled. "So you remember," she replied playfully.

"I'm not the amnesiac here," Carth teased. Ev's pleasant expression flickered for just a moment, but she swiftly recovered. He quickly added, "I didn't know that you still had that."

"I didn't either," Ev laughed, "Until I found it rummaging around in the _Ebon Hawk _on the way back from Korriban with Dustil."

"Bastila had said that you went to Korriban with him," Carth said, hoping that Ev would take the bait and explain. He had begun to see how much she resisted being asked about her personal Jedi business by anyone, even him. Pressing her would only result in silence and avoiding the subject entirely.

Ev nodded and took a sip of the wine spritzer that Carth had already ordered before her arrival. "Dustil has been improving immensely," she explained, "And I wanted to test his limits to see just how far he has come since the Sith Academy there." Carth waited apprehensively, unsure whether she would continue, as she took another long sip. She did elaborate, "He passed Korriban's test. I'm really proud of him. You should be too."

Carth relaxed into a smile. "I really am," he admitted, "I wish I could see him more, but, Ev, thank you for all you are doing for him."

"I'll never be his mother," She replied, "But I will always be his master. It's good, in a way, that I will never have to fill the same shoes as Morgan. He really is a good kid."

"I'm glad," Carth said, "This isn't the future I imagined for him when I held him as an infant in my arms, but I am really proud of him and where he is today."

"He really gets it," Ev continued in her praise of Dustil, "For a kid raised through his adolescence by the Sith, he understands what it really means to be a Jedi and he embraces it. Now that he sees and understands the differences between the Sith and the Jedi and knows the choices he is making, he always makes the right choices. You and Morgan really must have done something right in his childhood. His roots go deep."

Carth tried to push aside the pang of regret he felt in his gut; regret at not being there for Dustil more during his youth and regret at the loss of Morgan. "I hope he'll make a great Jedi one day," Carth replied.

"I'm sure he will become a better Jedi than me," Ev's smile was touched with mourning. If Carth did not know her so well, he would not have noticed it.

He tried to brush off the desperate feeling of concern that suddenly gripped his heart. This was neither the time nor the place for that.

Their server appeared and took their orders, leaving them with a complimentary bread basket.

"Are you still working through that list of war victims?" Carth did his best to make his question seem casual. The though that Ev's war guilt was keeping her awake at night had given Carth too many sleepless nights himself.

Ev nodded, chewing at the bread. "I'm not quite a quarter of the way through reading them all," she replied. It had been almost five months since she downloaded those classified flies off of his computer. "Dustil has been joining me in my condolence visits, which usually go pretty well."

"You know you don't have to do that," Carth pointed out, "We always send one of our people to inform families of the death of a soldier on the field."

"And yet I still feel like I must," Ev said with a sigh, "Every mother wife or brother who gives me her forgiveness, even if she really doesn't understand who I am or why I am there, it lifts a little weight off of my shoulders. It's a long road to forgiving myself—and don't you try to tell me that it wasn't me that committed those crimes."

"You're beginning to remember more, aren't you?" Carth asked quietly.

Though she did not reply, the long, calculating stare she gave Carth told him that she was.

"Ah, so, how are things at the Jedi Temple these days?" Carth fished for a new topic.

"The same as it's been," Ev replied, "Which is not so great, as far as I'm concerned. There's just so few Jedi; not enough to train all the kids we have coming up through our ranks. If anything were to hit us now, the Jedi order could be completely lost." The dark, determined look in her eyes clenched at Carth's nerves again.

"It's a good thing this war ended when it did," Carth replied.

"I think it went on too long as it is," Ev shook her head, "The losses were too heavy that I am worried whether the Jedi will be able to bounce back at all. We lost hundreds—no thousands, Carth, over the last two wars."

"I feel the same about the navy, though we were bigger to begin with," Carth nodded in agreement, "Much longer, many more losses, and the Sith would have won. We don't have much left to fight back with either."

"How is the Telos Restoration Project going these days?" Ev asked.

"Well enough that they could spare me for a weekend," Carth replied with a smile. The longer he sat with Ev, the more glad he was of that. "The first two residential modules of Citadel Station were brought in from the shipyards last week and should be stabilized and livable by the end of this week. The ground crew already has the beginnings of a shield network and a tidal power plant up. The Ithorians are using some mini containment zones to start experimenting with imported flora and fauna."

"I'm glad it's going so well," Ev replied, smiling, "For your sake. You needed a bit of healing in your life."

"Ev, you have healed me in more ways than you know," Carth reached over the table and grasped her hand, squeezing it. "I will always look back at that day we crashed onto Taris together as a good day, no matter what it was then. It was the beginning of my new life, a life with meaning again."

Ev pulled her hand away and twirled it through a lock of her short hair. "So it's escape pod rides you like for your first date?" Ev started mischievously, "Though it will be awfully hard to find a Sith-controlled metropolis these days to repeat that on our anniversary."

"I was being serious, Ev," Carth rolled his eyes.

"I know," she laughed.

"I love you, Ev," he said emphatically.

"I know," Ev replied.

Juhani took the next lift down from the restaurant after Ev and Carth. She had overheard Carth charging the restaurant bill to their room as they left, so Juhani had no fear of them sneaking off without her. Throughout the dinner, Ev had shown no sign of sensing Juhani near by or seeing through her Force Camouflage. Ever since returning from Dantooine, Ev had never once seemed to notice Juhani as her shadow around the Jedi Temple, or even when she left to wander Coruscant. She did not even notice Juhani steal aboard the _Ebon Hawk _with her tonight.

The lift slowed to a stop and the doors slid open. Juhani stepped out. To anyone watching on the cameras, it looked like a mistaken stop with no one aboard the lift. She did not need to recall the room number, now that she was on the correct floor. Ev's overwhelming presence in the Force was like a beacon down the hall to those who know what to look for.

She found the room with no problems. Pressing her ear against the door, she confirmed her senses with the sound of Carth and Ev's voices inside. She relaxed and leaned against the wall beside the door. Tonight, she would keep sentinel.

When Ev came, she flew the _Ebon Hawk _to the hotel hangar with her. That act alone struck a chord with Juhani's uneasiness. Ev liked to walk, and the Skylite Hotel and Suites was well within her usual range of comfortable walking distances. Even if she were returning it to Carth, he had no need of it to return to the navy headquarters to take his transport back to Telos. If Ev wanted to return it to Carth, she could have just as easily left it in his storage hangar on another day.

Juhani had no fear of falling asleep on watch. It would be an uneasy night.

Ev lay on her side beneath the sheets, watching Carth sleep as the minutes ticked away into hours. She could not sleep.

She resisted the urge to reach out and trace the outlines of the muscles on his bare chest with her finger. He looked so peaceful, so happy in his sleep. She did not want to wake him to reality.

Carth's even breathing, his presence in itself, brought calm to her harried spirit. For one evening, Ev had _almost_been able to forget herself, her worries, and the task ahead of her.

Laying here with Carth, Ev could not imagine leaving him. His love and support gave her the energy and stability she needed. To leave that behind, now that she had it, was almost inconceivable.

But the danger she knew she had to face was too much. She could never ask anyone to enter into that darkness with her, much less someone she loved, and never Carth. He was too precious to lose. Ev knew she could give herself up for the sake of the galaxy if she knew Carth was there to live in it.

As her mind ran in circles over and over again, Ev tossed and turned fitfully through a sleepless night. She knew what she had to do, but she could not bear to do it.

As Ev lay staring at the ceiling and counting nerf in her head to distract her thoughts, she felt a twinge in her bladder. With a sigh, Ev slipped from beneath the sheets and rolled out of bed. She slung a robe over her bare shoulders and padded to the refresher. Carth murmured and stirred in his sleep.

When she finished, Ev lingered in the doorway, the flush of water whispering behind her. She gazed at Carth sleeping alone on the queen-sized bed. Frozen where she stood, she felt a rush of emotions flood through her: love and pity for Carth, regret and pride, hope and longing, and the driving sense of duty that she knew would take her away from him.

Now that she was on her feet, Ev could not get back into bed with Carth or she would stay there forever with him. Ev crossed the carpeted floor to her small duffel with a sigh. She shrugged off the cotton hotel robe and found her undergarments where she had discarded them that night. She pulled out the long, white robe from the Star Forge and slipped it on over her head, the strapped on the leather vest over it and hung her lightsabers at her hips.

Ev was not one for superstition, but she did believe in symbolism. When she started something, she was going to start it right.

She collected the last of her things, including the slinky dress that lay in an unceremonious heap on the floor, and stuffed them into her bag. "It's now or never," she whispered. She pulled on her socks and boots, then walked to the door.

With one last, painful glance at Carth, Ev turned the knob on the door and pushed it quietly open. "I love you Carth," she whispered with a heavy heart, "Don't forget me." Then she slipped away.

Carth woke suddenly, his heart pounding. A feeling of foreboding overwhelmed him. He sat bolt upright in bed and looked around.

Ev was gone. He leaped out of bed, nearly tripping on tangled sheets and rushed to the refresher. It was empty. He hurried to the balcony door and looked outside even though he already knew in his heart that it was empty. Where Ev's travel duffel had been lay a wrinkled, yellow hotel robe. Unthinking, Carth picked it up and threw it over his shoulders, tying the belt around his waist. It was a woman's robe and far too small, but he did not care.

Snatching up the room key Carth dashed out of the room and down the hall, his bare feet slapping against the polished marble floor. He hardly knew what he was doing. He punched the lighted lift button repeatedly until it arrived, doors opening before him. Lunging inside, he jabbed the button for the hangar level then paced the lift box as it rose. The doors had hardly opened into the hangar lobby as Carth squeezed through them, running across the duracrete.

He skidded into hangar seven to see the _Ebon Hawk's _blue engines blazing through the dark hangar. It repulsed off the hangar floor and glided out of the building into the night.

Carth heart nearly stopped. Mouth hanging open in shock and horror, he darted forward again, chasing the ship though he knew it to be pointless. "Ev! Wait! Where are you going?" he yelled after her, but the _Ebon Hawk _did not stop. It soared off the landing and into the night. Dashing to the edge of the hangar, Carth watched as it joined the traffic patterns of Coruscant and was lost among the other ships. He watched long after it was out of sight. "Take me with you," he pleaded at a whisper.

Emptiness consumed every part of his soul. Ev was not coming back. He staggered to the hangar door controls. Slumping against the console for support, Carth cried like he had the day he lost his first wife.


	21. Chapter 21

Part 21- Empty Places

Dustil hesitated, fist hovering centimeters in front of the hotel door. He took a deep, calming breath, then knocked twice and waited. Dustil was about to give up and abandon his task when the door opened on Carth. He looked terrible, wearing a too-small women's robe. His face was pale against puffy, reddened eyes. He hardly seemed to see Dustil standing there outside his door. It seemed unlikely that he would notice the second saber that hung from his belt, Revan's lightsaber, his parting gift from Ev. That would be for the best. His father did not need any further reminding.

"Dad, uh, Bastila said I could find you here," Dustil began.

"And so you found me," Carth replied gruffly, and stepped back to let Dustil inside. Though it was nearly mid-day the curtains were still drawn, on the dim, musty room. Carth had not even bothered to turn up the climate control to a comfortable level. The bed sheets lay wadded in disarray, though it looked like he had long since given up on sleeping there. A half empty bottle of Corellian Brandy sat on the bed side table.

"I—uh," Dustil began, but started over again, "Ev wanted me to give this to you." Dustil held out a small, single-use holo recorder.

Carth took it but hardly looked at it. "You knew she was going to leave, then?" Carth observed, almost accusingly.

"I guessed it," Dustil admitted, "I saw a vision of the future that didn't include her, and somehow I knew she was going to go." He added hastily, "But she made me promise not to tell you."

"Why?" Carth demanded, but not of Dustil. It was as if he was asking the whole universe to answer him, "Why would Ev leave without telling me? Why would she leave like that, without saying goodbye?"

"I don't know for sure, but I would bet she said something about her reasons on that," Dustil suggested, waving a hand at the holo recorder that Carth held. "You don't have to watch it in front of me, though."

"No, it's alright," Carth sighed, then waved Dustil to the chairs in front of the bed, "Come on in. You're her family too."

Carth sunk into the chair near his brandy with another heavy sigh. Dustil stiffly took a seat on the other, ready to jump up and leave at a moments notice if his father needed more privacy. Carth activated the holo projector and a bluish projection of Ev from the waist up hovered above the projection disk.

"Carth, I'm sorry," she began, "I am leaving. I am sorry that it had to be this way, but I know that if I had to face you and tell you myself, I wouldn't be able to bring myself to go. I love you too much, and I never want to see you hurt again.

"There are places that I have to walk that you cannot go with me, places I can't bring people that I love. As Revan, I have unfinished business, and I cannot risk anyone else's lives on that. I believe that there was something else behind the Mandalorian Wars. I don't think it was really their choice to attack the Republic as they did. Now it is my duty to find it and fight it. It is something that only I, as Revan, can do.

"Carth, I know this is going to be hard for you to take, but you need to stay strong. Don't come looking for me. Stay where you are. The Republic needs you. Please, keep the Republic strong.

"Until we meet again, Carth. I love you. Please, don't forget me."

"How could I ever?" Carth whispered huskily. Tears glistened in his eyes.

Dustil remained where he was, feeling awkward and intrusive.

Carth swallowed hard, then looked up at his son. "First your mother, and now Ev," he tried to smile but could not. "And now she had to go off all alone into who knows what kind of danger."

"Actually," Dustil hoped to comfort him, "Juhani is gone too. Bastila said that she was shadowing you and Ev last night and that she hasn't come back either. I think she managed to follow Ev aboard the _Ebon Hawk _when she left."

Carth looked as if just a little weight was lifted from his shoulders. "I trust Juhani with her," he admitted with a sigh, "She will stick to Ev like glue and do her best to keep her out of trouble. I just wish..."

"That she'd take you with her?" Dustil asked.

Carth nodded wordlessly, swallowing hard again.

"If it makes you feel any better, she wouldn't take me along either," Dustil offered, "And I'm supposed to be her student and follow her everywhere." He paused then added, "Boy is she going to be mad when she finds out that Juhani snuck past her."

Carth let out a short laugh. "You bet she will be."

Bastila and Snow walked away from one of the large lecture halls in the Jedi Temple from a debriefing on the closing campaigns of the war with the Sith. All the Jedi and their padawans on Coruscant had been invited, and still the two hundred-seat auditorium was not filled. Only small pockets of Sith resistance remained, and it was only a matter of cleaning them up to finish the war. Still, there were a number of powerful Sith who seemed to have disappeared entirely.

They took a turn and headed away from the rest of the departing crowd towards the Eastern Arboretum where they would begin their training for the afternoon. Deep in though, Bastila did not realize just how long the silence between her and her padawan had stretched on.

"Something is bother you today, Bastila," Snow observed gently. It was a statement, not a question.

"Ah, sorry," Bastila apologized, "I was distracted there. What did you think about the debriefings?"

"I don't think you were thinking about them at all," Snow replied firmly. As always, she would not let Bastila avoid any topic once brought up.

Bastila sighed and shook her head. "Two of my dearest friends have gone away," she admitted quietly, "And I don't know when, or if, I will ever see them again."

"Ev and Juhani," Snow surmised.

Bastila nodded. "But I don't want this going around the Jedi temple just yet," she cautioned, "The less I worry the council, the better."

"You have my silence," Snow promised.

"I can always trust you, Snow," Bastila replied heavily. The pair arrived at the arboretum and stepped inside, letting the lush life force of all the greenery wash over them. Bastila took a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming her.

"Do you feel her through your bond?" Snow asked.

Bastila searched within herself. She nodded. "Yes, she's still there," Bastila replied, "It's faint, as if I'm looking at her at a distance through a dense fog."

"She is far away already then?" Snow asked.

"No," Bastila countered, "Distance makes no difference to our bond. Ev is willfully shutting me out to the best of her abilities."

"She does not want to tie you in with this quest of yours," Snow suggested, "Or burden you with it."

"I wish she would have," Bastila replied heavily.

"This is going to weigh on you for some time, isn't it?" Snow observed.

Bastila nodded again. "I think you're right," she agreed. Cutting Ev out of her life was like losing a part of herself.

"Then you can't just stay around here training me and wallowing in your loss," Snow started sharply, "We should volunteer for one of those clean-up missions on the outer rim. You will need a distraction—a cause."

"Snow, I am not sure if you are ready for that yet," Bastila cautioned.

"My lightsaber skills are nearly as good as yours," Snow pointed out stubbornly, "My control over the Force is fine-tuned. If you are concerned about my stability, what better way to find out if I am ready than to test it? Dustil said that Ev tested him by returning to Korriban. Or aren't you ready to face the Dark Side again?"

"Snow," Bastila said sharply, "Who here is the master and who is the student? Your suggestion has its merits, though. I will think on it."

"I'm sorry," Snow bowed her head, but Bastila still felt smoldering assertiveness rolling off of her.

The arboretum door behind them hissed open and another Jedi hurried inside.

"Bastila, there you are," Master Embrik Waykennit began hurriedly.

"Master Waykennit," Bastila bowed in greeting. To Snow, she said, "I will catch up with you in a moment." Snow, however, remained rooted to her spot beside Bastila. _As long as she keeps her opinions to herself for the moment._

Embrik continued briskly towards her, looking around cautiously. "Bastila, if I may," he began, "I have a question of concern to me for you."

"Yes?" Bastila asked, bracing herself for the worst. _Could he know already? Was he listening to us earlier?_

"Do you know what has happened to Juhani?" he asked quietly, "I had hoped to ask Ev, but she was also missing this morning."

Bastila stared warily back at him, tight-lipped, unsure how to respond.

"Shasa came to me this morning when I was training the other Korriban and Selkath apprentices and said that she could not find her master," Embrik continued, "It seems that she is nowhere in the Temple. Shasa said that she left very suddenly yesterday evening and must not have returned since."

Bastila still held her silence. Embrik had been one of Ev's greatest supporters on the Jedi High Council and even had trained her on control in private. His term on the council was finished, however, so he no longer wielded the influence he previously had. Still, Bastila hardly knew him herself and was unsure how much to trust him.

"Bastila, you know something," he observed, "I can feel it. Please tell me."

Bastila sighed and acquiesced finally. "Master Waykennit," she prefaced, "You have always been one of Ev's strongest supporters among the Jedi. Therefore, I trust you to not speak of this to any others until we know more. I do not want to create any kind of unnecessary panic among the Jedi."

"Unless it is something that I cannot risk keeping quiet," he nodded, his expression darkening, "Fine."

Bastila began, choosing her words with care, "I believe that Ev was beginning to remember her past. She remembered something that frightened her and now she has set off to set it right. Although she never told me her intentions herself, that is my best guess." She added quickly, "Ev herself is not a danger to the Jedi or to the Republic, I can promise you that still. But what she seeks may be."

Embrik nodded slowly. "I see," he said, "And Juhani?"

"Juhani was afraid Ev would try to leave on her own without a word, just as she tried to do yesterday," Bastila explained, "I believe that her skill with Force Camouflage let her follow Ev to wherever she went. Juhani is with her, and I know she will not leave her."

"At least that is some comfort," Embrik relaxed slightly, "Did she take Dustil with her?"

Bastila shook her head, "No. He is still here. He only went to run and errand in the city this morning."

Embrik looked as if he wanted to ask after that errand, but stopped himself. "They will not be returning any time soon, I gather," he said.

"No, I don't believe so," Bastila affirmed, "Whatever Ev is after will probably take her quite some time."

"Then what to do about their padawans?" he asked, "There are so few Jedi these days. I doubt any one will want to take on Dustil or Shasa as long as we believe their masters to still be alive."

"I will watch over them," Bastila volunteered.

"The Jedi council still has not repealed its one padawan policy," Embrik cautioned, "They would not agree to let you formally train two more."

"Then I will train them informally," Bastila promised, "It would be a disservice to my friends not to."

Embrik nodded. "Then if Shasa comes to me again, I will send her to you," he promised. "And please, don't keep this secret longer than you feel you need to. The Council will find out soon enough that they are missing and they will come straight to you. It would be easier on everyone the sooner you let them know of it."

"If they can keep it quiet from the rest of the Jedi and from the press," Bastila promised, "I will. I absolutely do not want the galaxy to begin to think that Revan has gone rouge again."

"Then let them think that she has been sent off on a special mission," Embrik suggested.

"That is precisely what she would have us think," Bastila agreed.

Embrik reached out and touched Bastila on the shoulder. "I am sorry for your loss, Bastila," he said sympathetically, "Let the Force guide you and heal you."

"Thank you Master Waykennit," she replied, and truly meant it.


	22. Chapter 22

Part 22- Balancing Act

Kionee checked her chrono as she rushed through Admin Module 19 of Citadel Station. _If this meeting goes quickly, I can be off again before four to get that shipment of pink nostrum from Toprawa before the business day closes tomorrow and be on my way to Bimmel in no time._ The unexpected meeting with the Telos Restoration Project's newly hired Ecological Import Coordinator was enough to throw a hydrospanner into Kionee's tightly laid plans. Getting the cannoks out of her hold this morning had been enough of an adventure, and now this added to her delays.

In the past six months since its beginning, Citadel Station had mushroomed from a tiny research station to a livable complex large enough to comfortably house all of the restoration workers, military personnel aside. Still, it looked like little more than durasteel box after durasteel box, strung together into one sprawling orbital complex.

While Kionee was glad that they were finally getting someone to coordinate all of the shipments of flora and fauna to Telos, she scoffed at the administration a bit for not choosing her for that job. She could work out efficient shipment tables in her sleep, with all of her years at Rinnh Imports. They hardly needed to hire someone to sit around in an office on Citadel Station when she could have done it all from the cockpit of the _Viridian _herself on one of her long hyperspace journeys.

Kionee finally reached the office she was looking for. A hastily pasted paper on the dull durasteel door announced, 'Laylien Horabinger: Ecological Import Coordinator.' Kionee halted, fist raised and poised to knock. "Laylien Horabinger?" she marveled out loud, "They hired Laylien for the Telos Restoration Project?"

Suddenly, the door hissed open on a slender woman with vibrant violet colored hair in a long braid down her back. Kionee had not even knocked yet. "You see," the woman said to the room behind her, "There is someone else here for you after all."

"Kionee!" another woman, whose hair was a much more natural shade of brunette, exclaimed from her desk.

Kionee had to step back for a moment to process.

"Well, we should not take up any more of your time," the man seated next to the desk began.

"Laylien, _you're _the person they hired for this?" Kionee spurted, "And what are you doing here Leiraya? I thought you and Kylan would never leave Corellia. You guys know each other?" She glanced wide-eyed between the three occupants of the sparse office.

"I shouldn't be surprised that you know the Sheffields, for the way you get around the galaxy," Laylien laughed, "Come on in, Kionee. Clearly you're among friends."

Kionee stepped inside and let the door close behind her. "Leiraya's family was one of my first trading partners when I started out working for dad," Kionee explained to Laylien, then turned to the two Corellians and added, "And Laylien was my best friend growing up on Mon Calamari."

"Mon Calamari?" Kylan observed, "Niether of you look particularly like fish."

Laylien let out an infectious laugh and Kionee found herself joining in.

"But I haven't seen you since..." Kionee tried to think back to the last time she had seen her childhood friend.

"Since before I started my masters on Alderaan in public and environmental health," Laylien pointed out. "That would have been, what, five years or so?"

Kionee nodded. _That was before I got involved in the war, before I stupidly thought I could get away with smuggling kolto under the noses of the Sith. I guess it didn't all turn out so bad, though. _"Wow," Kionee marveled, "It really has been that long."

"I think it's almost been that long since we've seen you too," Leiraya pointed out. "Though I'm pretty sure I saw you on the holos a while back."

"What is this about you being some hero of the Republic?" Kylan asked, teasing.

"That was just a lot of stupid mistakes with happy endings and being in the wrong places at the right times with the right people," Kionee made excuses, then asked, sinking into an empty chair, "So what are you two doing here anyway?"

Leiraya remained standing comfortably with her hands on her hips. "We volunteered to start up a trial orchard here as a part of the agricultural restoration of Telos," Leiraya explained. "We were just talking with Laylien here about the short-term and long-term goals and needs for our portion of the project."

"And I'm hoping to get your help in getting what they need," Laylien told Kionee. "Few people are as well connected in the galactic agriculture sector as you and your family, Kionee."

"Huh," Kionee marveled, "I've got say, I didn't expect to find any of you guys here, doing the same sort of thing as me."

"It's amazing what a call for volunteers for an ecological restoration project can do to gather all the most fascinating tree-huggers in the galaxy," Kylan mused.

"You know, Kionee," Laylien started, "I was surprised to see you on my list of freighter pilots for this project. I thought you'd never leave your dad's company."

"I haven't," Kionee shook her head, almost startled by the assumption. "Actually, I hate to cut this short, but, I have a pick-up on Toprawa tomorrow, local time, that I have to run off to pretty quickly."

Leiraya clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Will you ever learn to relax?" she teased.

Kionee laughed wearily. "I like being busy," she replied, "I like being useful. I've got plenty of time in hyperspace for napping. I want to utilize every moment of real space that I've got."

"I'm surprised you haven't settled down in one place yet," Laylien observed, "Your dad could give you a nice desk job any place you like, I'm sure."

"I haven't found any place that can hold me yet," Kionee shrugged.

"Or just not anyone?" Laylien teased, winking at her.

Kionee blushed and looked at the floor. "No," she admitted, "not yet."

"Last time I saw you, your brother Cash was engaged," Laylien said, "Is he married now?"

Kionee nodded. "And Roshind too," she replied, "Cash and Laurel had a beautiful wedding in Cinnagar on Empress Teta. And then Cash joined the Koros Imperial Pilots so that he could fly with Laurel. Roshind just got married last winter to another Nubian she met on Corellia, and now she's managing the sector office on Kuat."

"But no desk job for you," Leiraya observed, "Figures. It's not my style either."

"Suits me just fine," Laylien admitted. "I'm just excited to find a way to be a part of this project. The Ithorians here really are fantastic to work with."

"It really is amazing that an entire heard of them came to dedicate themselves to this project," Kylan said, "They will be the new Telos' first alien immigrants."

"But why are you juggling two shipping jobs anyway, Kionee?" Laylien brought the conversation back.

"Well, Carth—er, Admiral Onasi came to me and asked me if I wanted to do this," Kionee replied, "And, just like you, I am thrilled to be part of the restoration. I have a lot of hope in it and what it could mean for other damaged planets out there. I really want to see this succeed and to do my part in it."

"But why are you still working for your dad?" Laylien pressed. "You know he won't love you any less for turning in your resignation. Clearly, Cash did that."

"Well..." Kionee started, but struggled to find a good answer. _I guess it hadn't crossed my mind in a long time..._ "I've always done this, I'm good at it, and I like it, I guess."

"That sounds pretty halfhearted to me," Leiraya said, "Compared to your reasons for working here."

"You could do a lot more for the Telos Restoration Project if you didn't have to ship fruit around for Rinnh Imports," Kylan added.

"I—" Kionee fell silent and thought it over. _Dad has never once pressured me to stay with the company. He's even tried to push me out to do other things now and then. Working with the Telos Restoration Project is really a cause I believe in. I'm helping people for the future. I'm helping a whole planet get back on its feet._

"Not to sway you or anything," Laylien started, "But I was calling you in to ask you to make a few more runs for me. We're short-handed on pilots willing to put wild animals in their holds for as low a salary as we're giving."

Kionee sighed and looked around at her three friends. Here she was, working for a cause she believed in with friends she loved and wanted to spend more time with. She didn't want another five years to go by missing them and not even noticing it. _I would get a lot more out of my real space hours if I just had more of them_. "You all want me to quit Rinnh Imports, don't you?" Kionee asked, meeting their eyes.

"Well, there is some bias here," Leiraya replied with a shrug and a smile.

"We just want you to be happiest," Laylien said firmly, "And I think you're short-changing yourself with all the work you've loaded on."

"You might be right," Kionee admitted. "But I need to think about it." She checked her chrono and nearly jumped out of her seat, "But for now, I need to get going to Toprawa if I'm going to make my shipment in time."

Laylien smiled. "Tell me what you decided when you get back to Citadel Station with your next load from Onderon," she said.

"And do drop by our orchard on the surface some time," Leiraya invited, "I think you'd enjoy it."

"Thanks you guys," Kionee said with a smile and stood. "I'm so glad I ran into you all here. See you soon!" _It feels good to be able to say that._ It was nice to be able to leave know that she really would see her friends soon again.


	23. Chapter 23

Part 23- Attack from the Shadows

"I think I now understand why Master Epiere came here to do her research on the Sith," Snow observed to Bastila as they walked down the grand corridors of the Onderon Royal Palace in Iziz.

Raising an eyebrow, Bastila asked her padawan, "And why is that?" Although she kept her voice low, barely above a whisper, Bastila's words echoed down the vaulted hallway and reverberated off the high, stone ceiling. Their guide, a soldier in a crisp brown uniform with a beige sash around his shoulders, pretended not to hear the Jedi's conversation.

"The Dark Side echoes here, within these walls," Snow replied, as if relishing the sensation. In moments like these, she worried Bastila, but Snow quickly returned to dry analysis, "There is not a strong dark presence here now, but it is as if the Dark Side is calling out, wishing to return this place to a past where its grip was stronger. I am sure you feel it too."

Bastila nodded. "As you know, the Dark Side leaves its scars on places as easily as it does on people," she replied as they walked, "Master Anika came here to meditate and research, in hopes that such an old Dark Side nexus as this would give her clues or glimpses into what is causing this dark veil we have all been sensing, growing in the last year."

"But she has not been heard from in over two weeks," Snow stated.

"And that is why we were sent here," Bastila nodded.

"Attempting to connect with the Dark Side through any means is dangerous," Snow cautioned.

"But let's not jump to any conclusions," Bastila warned, "Assumptions can cloud our observations. Anika Epiere is a member of the Jedi Council and understood her mission here. Research of this kind is hardly dangerous."

"Or shouldn't be," Snow replied. "_Something _happened to her out here."

"Onderon is a world not without its dangers," Bastila responded.

The soldier before them stepped aside and halted crisply at the doorway ahead of them, heels clicking on the stone floor. "The Royal Archives," he announced.

"Thank you, sir," Bastila nodded to him and then crossed under the arched, stone doorway, Snow following after her.

Towering shelves held an impressive collection of holodisks and books, interspersed with antique-looking tables for studying. It was like the Jedi Archives on a smaller scale, though decidedly dustier. Afternoon sunlight filtered through long slit windows near the ceiling.

"You must be the Jedi from Coruscant," a slender woman approached them from the shadows of the book cases. She wore baggy pants gathered in at the ankles and a long tunic, all in warm tones of gold and orange. "Welcome," she said.

"We are. Thank you," Bastila replied with a curt bow. The woman, who she had at first taken to be one of the archivists, stepped out in streaming sunlight. The rich silks of her clothing, her proud bearing, and the gilded, boxy cap on her head caught Bastila's attention. "Your Highness," she corrected her internal assumptions, "I am Jedi Knight Bastila Shan and this is my padawan Seno'vwannin, called 'Snow.' The Jedi Council sent us to investigate the disappearance of Master Anika Epiere."

"I am very sorry for all this, Jedi," the woman, Queen Talia, apologized, "We thought she had finished her research and left long ago. We were unaware of her disappearance until we received the message from Coruscant announcing your visit. Had I know, my own security forces would have done more to locate her."

"We already appreciate your concern and hospitality, Your Majesty," Bastila replied, "Anything that can cause the disappearance of a Jedi Master is something to be considered very seriously and acted upon with care and caution. It is best that your people stayed out of the search for as long as they did. I would hate to risk them in what may be another Jedi squabble."

Snow shot her a cautioning look.

"You suspect the Sith may be behind her disappearance?" Talia looked aghast, "Here on Onderon?"

"I suspect nothing," Bastila replied coolly, "But it is one of many possibilities that could have caused one so in tune with the Force as Master Anika to disappear."

"For all we know, one of your jungle beasts could have carried her off," Snow suggested, but her theory did not seem to reassure the queen.

"In hopes that it would help you in your search, my archivists have assembled all the material she was studying two weeks ago for you," Talia began, smoothing over the tense, unsettled posture that had risen up momentarily. "If you will follow me this way," she gestured back between the two tall shelves.

Bastila bowed her head in acquiescence and the queen led the way to a broad wooden table in a bright patch of sunlight. Maps, old books, and a few dusty data cards were arranged in neat piles on the near end of the table. "It seems that, near the end of her stay," Talia summarized, "Master Epiere spent a significant amount of her energy focusing on research of some old Nadd Era ruins just outside of Iziz." She drew a finger over a clump of building-like scribbles on the map nearest to them.

Snow's red eyes flicked meaningfully between Bastila and the map.

The stone walls of Iziz seemed to keep out not only the wild of the jungle but also the incredible humidity. Bastila had hardly parked their borrowed speeder in the ruins of the old keep, and she already found herself drenched in a shower of her own sweat. Snow seemed to fare much better, even if the humidity made her uncomfortable. Twi'leks, from their arid planet, always seemed to take heat far better than their human companions. Meanwhile, Bastila tried to keep a look of disgust off her face as her damp robes clung to her skin.

"Master Epiere rightly associated this place with the Dark Side," Snow observed. She did not need to. Bastila felt the call of the Dark Side in these ruins as clearly as her Padawan.

"They were built during the reign of Freedon Nadd, it seems," Bastila replied, "A powerful Dark Jedi."

What was left of a once grand keep amounted to a pile of overgrown stones, somewhat resembling a tower. The jungle was not kind to history.

"But what I find harder to understand is why she thought a place like this would have something to do with the growing darkness in the galaxy," Bastila observed, picking her over the mossy stones towards what appeared to be a crumbling doorway, overgrown with hanging ferns and vines.

Snow scrambled after her. "Maybe she was hoping that a nexus like this would open her up to the greater ebb and flow of the Dark Side and give her some clues as to where it is coming from?" she suggested.

"We don't even know if she came here at all," Bastila cautioned.

"Though the signs seem to point that way," Snow argued.

The first thing that Bastila noticed as she pushed through the greenery and into the dim interior of the keep was the stench. All the smells of the jungle could do nothing to mask the humid scent of rot and decay. Bastila took a few more steps across the uneven flooring and squinted deeper into the ruins. The source of the odors seemed to be a heap of something at the food of a broken reptilian statue near the center of the floor.

"What is that smell?" Snow exclaimed and immediately clamped a hand over her nose. "It smells like something died in here."

As Bastila's eyes adjusted to the lower light, the pile on the floor resolved itself into a more familiar shape.

"Is that a lightsaber?" Snow suddenly observed, taking two quick steps forward towards a silver cylinder that glimmered in a ray of light. She had not seen the heap by the statue.

All that was recognizable in that heap was a pair of polished, gnawed upon Jedi boots. What was left of Anika Epiere hardly resembled the elderly Arkanian any more. Bastila's eyes widened with realization as bile rose up her throat. She quickly turned away and hunched over, fighting back the urge to vomit.

"Oh Force!" Snow saw her too. She clapped a hand over her mouth, almost retching as well. When she had recovered, she started, sounding forced, "One of the predators here must have gotten her."

Bastila, knowing that she must be almost as pale as Snow, swallowed back the sour taste in her mouth and tried to asses the scene without really looking at the chewed corpse in the middle of it all. There did not seem to be room enough in the crumbled keep for any particularly large predators, like a boma. Anika's lightsaber, moreover was on the ground at Snow's feet, several meters from where her body seemed to have fallen. That alone pointed to the idea that she had been using it to defend herself when she died. Something had attacked and killed her, knocking the lightsaber from her grasp. The statue behind her showed signs of lightsaber scoring. One appendage had been sheared cleanly off.

As Bastila studied it all, the hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle and the tips of Snow's lekku started to twitch agitatedly. She became suddenly aware of the darkness rising around them. An odd shimmer in the air behind Snow caught her eye. "Snow..." she started in an urgent whisper.

Snow was already tensed, hands on the hilt of her lightsaber. Slowly, she turned, looking over her right shoulder. She sensed it, whatever it was.

With a hiss and a hoarse yell, something lunged. Snow let out a startled yell of pain, and the illusion was shattered. A figure materialized out of the shadows, stealth field generator failing as he attacked.

Bastila leaped protectively forward. She did not remember consciously deciding to take her lightsaber and turn it on, but she whirled in with it, getting between Snow and her attacker. Snow herself fell back, blood rapidly darkening her burgundy sleeve near her right shoulder.

As the Force moved Bastila from each strike to each block, the rest of her consciousness assessed her foe. He was average height, robed in gray and black with a tight hood and full mask. Eerie red goggles covered his eyes. Without the cues of flickering eyes of decided attention, Bastila had to rely more fully on the Force for each move she made. He deftly swung a long, spindly Force pike, which awarded a sharp shock to her skin each time it connected, even when she managed to deflect the pointy ends.

Snow yelped again. For a moment, Bastila allowed a slip in her focus to look over her shoulder, earning a stinging blow from her enemy. Two more of the attackers, identically armed and dressed as the first, materialized out of the shadows and bore down on Snow. Biting her lip, Bastila returned her attention to her own fight. She hated to leave Snow alone to the two attackers, but she had little choice for the moment. Snow was a far better duelist than Bastila often gave her credit for. She stood just as good a chance against two attackers as Bastila did.

Bastila found herself being pushed in towards the center of the room, where more rubble littered the floor, threatening her sure footing. Closer to where Anika lay dead. She tried not to think about it. Moment by moment, Bastila became more certain that these shadowy attackers were responsible for the death of the Arkanian Jedi Master and not the beasts of the forest.

While, at first, Bastila had assumed that her attacker was a Sith, now she was not so certain. Neither he nor the other two wielded lightsabers, but they were clearly trained in at least a few of the more aggressive lightsaber forms. None of them used tricks of the Force to fight them. Yet, he managed to resist most of Bastila's subtle attacks of the Force against him. There were none of the cocky, self-assured taunts of the Sith coming from their mouths; only bestial grunts and hisses. As the fight wore on, Bastila felt herself grown weary far more quickly than she should have.

There was a gargling exclamation of pain and a body slumped to the floor, sliding along jagged rocks. Snow let out a small, satisfied grunt, but that was all.

Bastila fought to keep focused as weakness began to overcome her. She leaped backwards, assisted by the Force, and landed lightly on the head of the reptilian statue at the center of the crumbling room. She Pushed violently outward with both of her hands. Even Snow was thrown from her feet. Bastila winced as her padawan hit the uneven floor hard. At least the Push disentangled her from her attacker, who landed even worse. Unfortunately, the two remaining assassins scrambled more quickly back to their feet. As the battle drew on, they seemed to be gaining more and more energy.

_This needs to end quickly,_ Bastila thought grimly. As one closed in on Snow, who stiffly pulled herself up off the floor, Bastila leaped off the statue and brought her lightsaber down in a heavy, over-handed strike. The yellow blade sliced him clean through, shoulder to navel. With a gurgled hiss, he collapsed. Bastila shot a reassuring look at Snow. _There is only one more left_. If possible, Snow looked paler than usual. She smiled back weakly.

With no more exchange, Bastila whirled back towards her attacker. She opened the floodgates inside her, grasping at all the Force she could muster. It seemed to siphon away almost as quickly. She felt dried out inside, heavy, and clumsy. Each defensive block she made seemed to make it just in time with barely enough strength.

Suddenly, Snow screamed. It was not like her first scream, but brimming with pain and terror. Bastila Leaped back and turned towards her padawan. The end of a Force pike protruded through Snow's chest. Another assassin stood behind Snow, grasping his weapon. _There was a fourth one? _"Snow!" she shrieked. Snow's wide red eyes shifted from the shaft sticking out of her chest slowly up to Bastila's face, as if wordlessly pleading for Bastila to somehow release her from her pain. The rolled back in her head and her body fell limp. Her attacker let out a hiss of satisfaction, and kicked her down, freeing his weapon from her torso. All at once, Bastila felt the power of the Dark Side surge with strength around her. Her own power felt infinitely more distant.

With a scream of rage, Bastila lunged at the man who had killed Snow. She let her rage fuel her, drawing all the darkness around her into her limbs. The power surged through her and out the palm of her hand as she Shoved the attacker against the wall. It fueled her leap across the rubble towards him and gave force to the swing of her saber as the humming yellow blade sliced through his Force pike like a twig and then clear through his mid section. He did not even have time to utter a cry before his top half separate from his bottom.

Bastila hardly gave his death any thought as she spun back across the chamber with one great leap, a whirlwind of golden yellow. The last remaining assassin fought back fiercely, his own strength increasing, but he was no match for Bastila's rage. Soon, the wrist that held his pike was severed from his arm followed by his head severed from his neck. Bastila yelled out again as he fell.

She stood there panting amid all the blood and carnage, gripping fiercely at the hilt of her lightsaber and waiting for another attack. It never came. Her anger faded away and Bastila gradually became aware of the world around her again. Insects drones and birds whistled and screamed outside the ruined keep. Heat and humidity pressed down on her and drenched her clothes and hair with sweat. Six dead bodies lay around her. The sour stench of death filled her nostrils.

Bastila felt weak, like a deflated balloon. She dropped her saber, the blades going out as it fell to the stone floor with a clatter. Her gaze fell on Snow, who lay at an unnatural angle across a pile of stone blocks from a collapsed section of the wall. Her unseeing red eyes still stared at Bastila, begging for help.

Bastila took one heavy, dragging step towards her and then another. She felt to her knees at Snow's side and threw her arm over her in a desperate embrace. Sticky blood from the wounds on Snow's chest and shoulder soaked into Bastila's clothes and mingled with her sweat. She slumped down over her padawan's body, her forehead falling against Snow's tattooed brow. Salty tears came to her eyes. She made no attempt to hold them back. Sobs racked her shuddering body as she held onto to the soulless body of the Twi'lek who had been both her student and friend, only moments before. Every last trace of her in the Force was utterly gone. There was no bringing her back now. Bastila's hoarse cries drowned all other noises of the jungle until she had no voice left to cry out.

Heat blasted at Bastila from the blazing funeral pyre of Anika Epiere and Seno'vwannin. It only added to the oppressive heat of the jungle, but Bastila was beyond caring about her own comfort. She had collected downed limbs for the fire in a depression in the rubble outside the keep. Placing Snow's body and what was left of Anika upon the wood, she doused it all in fuel siphoned from her speeder and lit it. Now, she could barely make out the shapes of the two fallen Jedi amid the hungry, roaring flames.

It would be completely infeasible to take the bodies back to Coruscant with here, or even back to Iziz, but she still wanted to give them a proper Jedi funeral. Bastila attended as the only mourner.

Bastila watched the flames dance with dry eyes. She had no more tears to cry. First she lost Ev and Juhani, and now Snow was forever gone from her life as well. There was no one left for this growing darkness to take from her. Even on the day that her own master had died, she had never felt this alone.

In the nearly two years since the day first met Snow and began her training, Snow grew from an eager student and companion to close friend. When Ev left with Juhani, Snow provided the support and stability in Bastila's life that she had so desperately needed. Though she knew deep down that no one could ever replace Ev, Snow filled that hole in her life that Ev left gaping wide open with her sudden disappearance.

Bastila knew that Ev was still alive, even after all this time. There bond was never severed, but each day, it seemed, Ev's presence in the back of her mind grew more and more distant. Although she and Snow did not share any kind of Force bond, Snow's presence close by to her every day since Ev's departure had been reassuring. Now Snow was gone too, leaving Bastila's soul alone again.

Snow's cool logic complimented Bastila's at-times-passionate compulsions. The two grew together in the military planning chambers on Coruscant and on their quests chasing down Sith in the far reaches of the outer rim. Snow never once let Bastila give up hope that they would see Ev again.

To each other, they were a reminder that the shadow of the Dark Side in their pasts could be conquered and moved beyond. It did not need to taint their destinies for the rest of their lives. And yet, the moment Snow fell, Bastila embraced the Dark Side through her anger as easily as if that had always been her path. She hated herself for that lapse. It was an insult to Snow's memory.

She stared at the raging flames, emptying her mind. Her spirit felt numb.

_Is this why the Jedi Code discourages attachments? No sentient can handle attachments being severed without anger, hurt, or violence. Is loving someone worth all that when one day you will lose them?_

With a sigh, Bastila tore her gaze away from the pyre and turned back to the keep. She scrambled over the rubble and back through the crumbling arched doorway. She desperately wanted to forget about what had happened in there, but she had her duty to the Jedi, above all else. Though now, it seemed, her duty to the Jedi was all she had left.

The four assassins still lay right where they had fallen, undisturbed except for the small clouds of hungry, buzzing insects. Bastila had to find some kind of clue about their attackers. She approached the body that had lost the fewest parts to lightsabers and knelt down beside her. Numbly, she felt all over his body for pockets that might hold some kind of identification or clue, but there were none. There was only his weapon. It was an anonymous extending Force pike with no detailing or identifying marks on it. Still, she took it.

Taking deep breath, Bastila swatted the flies away from his head and slowly removed the goggled mask and peeled back the hood. Beneath it was the face of an average looking human male twisted into an angry grimace. His head was shaved and his skin was the sort of pasty white color of someone who had not seen the sun in years.

Then there were the eyes. They were a shock of yellow in his pale face. Human eyes did not come in that color naturally. It was a clear sign of extended exposure to the Dark Side. These men may not have been Dark Jedi, but the Dark Side was with them all the same. She sat back on her heels and sighed. That was all she could glean from the corpse, however. _Dead men tell no tales._

The light inside the ruined keep flickered as a large shadow passed over. She heard the whooshing of large wings outside. Springing to her feet, Bastila stumbled out of the keep and into the sunlight.

A bury Onderonian man sat perched atop a huge gray-green drexyl beast. "What's going on here?" he asked himself out loud. He had not yet seen Bastila.

"A funeral," Bastila replied to his question, her voice hoarse and low, "for two fallen Jedi."

The Best Rider flinched, startled, and stared down at Bastila. "Jedi?" he asked, then a look of realization dawned in his eyes as he saw her blood-stained robes and lightsaber hanging from her hip. "Your pardon, Master Jedi," he said with a bow of his head from his saddle, then, clicking his tongue in a quick pattern to his beast, swung down to the ground and approached Bastila.

"I am the Jedi Knight Bastila Shan," she introduced herself. Her raw throat grated painfully as she spoke. "Guest of the queen. I came here with my padawan to investigate the disappearance of one of our fellow Jedi who had come to Onderon for research."

He glanced meaningfully at the pyre. "You found her?" he observed. It was almost a statement.

"And her killers," Bastila nodded numbly, "And lost my padawan."

The Beast Rider stared at her, waiting for a further explanation.

Bastila took a laborious breath and continued, shrugging in the direction of the keep. "There were four cloaked assassins waiting in there for us," she explained, "They may have been connected with the Sith, but there is no way of knowing now that they are dead."

The Beast Rider glanced at the keep, then back at Bastila. "I am glad I saw this smoke and came to investigate. You don't look well enough to pilot your speeder back to the city right now," he observed with more gentleness than Bastila would have attributed to a brute like him, "If you will allow me, I can take you back to the palace myself, Jedi Knight."

She nodded slowly. "Once ashes are all that remain," she replied. She would stay with Snow until the end.

"Alright then," he nodded respectfully.

"Thank you," Bastila replied and turned back to the flames. As she stared, she emptied her heart of anything that was still left. She was aware of the Beast Rider entering the ruins to take a look for himself as he grew restless from watching the funeral pyre with her. When she returned to the palace at Iziz, she would have to contact the Jedi Council and give her report. She dreaded having to relive the day again through her words, but it needed to be done.

She would move on, just as she had when Ev left. Only, this time, she had no one to support her through it.


	24. Chapter 24

Part 24- Not the Best of Circumstances

Kionee Rinnh stepped out of her apartment and locked the door behind her with a contented sigh.

Her apartment and her door.

It had been nearly six months since the Telos Restoration Project had granted her the small apartment on Citadel Station in return for regularly hauling cannoks, flipdarters, and shrubbery. The run from Onderon to Telos took her two days of hyperspace travel and granted her two more days of holiday on either end. During those two days on Telos, she had only to briefly supervise the Ithorians who unloaded her ship, then meet with their leader to take orders for her next run. The rest of the time was hers, and it baffled her.

The regular runs between two and only two planets, the free time, and the apartment were something entirely new to her. At twenty-seven, Kionee had never before owned her own place and never before had such a predictable job. Her freighter, the _Viridian_, had been her home and her narrow bunk in the cabin her bed. After growing up hopping from planet to planet with her father, then working ten years freighting produce for the family business all across the galaxy, Kionee had not even considered wanting anything more.

But now that she had stability—and importance—she couldn't go back.

At first, Kionee hadn't known what to do with the studio apartment. The room was little more than a durasteel box with a few wide windows that looked down on the distorted landscape below. It came with a bed, a dresser, a table, and one chair. The blank, steely walls of the _Viridian_ had never bothered her before, but she soon found the itch to decorate. She hung pictures of some of her favorite places in the galaxy—the Nubian planes, Ahto City, Drallish Meadows, Rodian jungles, and Telos before the war, among others—along with tacky posters from some of her favorite movies and holodramas. She soon made a point of bringing fresh flowers all the way from Iziz to put in the blue glass vase on her table every time she made the trip.

Citadel Station Resident Module 034 C-4 was hers, Kionee Rinnh's, and she celebrated it every time she arrived back 'home.'

Her apartment lacked a kitchen, but that was fine by her. She didn't know how to cook well anyway. Citadel Station already housed a number of cantinas and two or three up-scale restaurants. Sometimes Kionee treated herself to one of the restaurants—she could easily afford it on her generous salary—but tonight she felt like something simpler.

Kionee made her way down the residential block and smiled at the handful of neighbors she passed. She knew the names of only a few, but she did recognize most of the residents of her module by now. It was a pleasant place for everyone from young families to freighter pilots like her to live. The Ithorians hadn't even left the steel and re-bar station lifeless. Trees and trickling little fountains lined the center of all the residential corridors.

The rail shuttle was at the station when she arrived at the far end of the module. Kionee ducked inside with a few other passengers. They were undoubtedly heading out for dinner as well. She settled into an empty seat and soon the doors slid shut.

The shuttle car raced along its track, through the scaffolding of the massive space station-in-progress. Soon there would be enough space to house all of the Telosians who desperately wanted to come back home, even if it was only to orbit above their home planet until the restoration was complete.

A transfer and one more shuttle ride later, Kionee arrived in Entertainment Module 042. Disembarking, the crowd there was far more lively and diverse than in her peaceful neighborhood. The nearby docking bays made it popular with spacers who were passing through. She wove her way through the milling crowd of colorful aliens and humans to the cantina. Her height and broad shoulders made it easy to jostle her way through knotted crowds.

The cantina itself was just as lively as the streets outside. The loud conversation in a multitude of languages made Kionee feel right at home. The snappy music from a band of three Biths and a Bothan put her in good spirits.

Kionee settled down at the bar and hailed the Zabrak barkeep, "What's the special tonight, Irkun?"

"Corellian-style boiled tirfus root stew," he replied without enthusiasm.

"Fine, give me a bowl of that and one of those Mrenjii juices," Kionee ordered.

"Just juice?" the Zabrak asked skeptically.

"Just juice," Kionee answered firmly.

He shrugged and walked off to fill her order. Soon, she had a bowl of brownish-yellow stew in front of her and a tall glass of frothy, pink juice in her hand. The first spoonful of the soup burnt the roof of her mouth, but soon she was enjoying its rather bland flavors.

As Kionee sipped at her dinner, she noticed an emerald-green Rodian sitting two seats down staring at her. The smallish Rodian wore baggy pants, a large jacket, and a conspicuous weapons belt. It was the typical attire of an off-world Rodian pilot.

In the sidelong glances Kionee took, something struck her about the Rodian. She had spent enough time on Rodia and with her own co-pilot to know females from male Rodians. Despite the shaved head and the clothes, the Rodian watching her was clearly a woman. "Come to think of it..." she murmured and put down her spoon. She turned to the Rodian woman and asked, "Veea, is that you?"

"I wondered how long it would take you to figure that out," she replied in Rodian with an amused spark in her eyes.

"Veea!" Kionee exclaimed and slid herself and her dinner down two stools to sit next to her old friend, "It's been so long! How are you?" She reached out to wrap the Rodian woman in a hug, but when Veea didn't reciprocate, she awkwardly shifted her gesture to warmly pat her on the back instead.

"I've been fine. Busy," Veea answered, "Employed."

Kionee tried to ignore the pointed sarcasm in her last remark. "I think it's been about eight years since I last saw you," she said eagerly.

"Since our partnership was terminated," Veea added her own clarification dryly. "What are you doing around Telos? I didn't think Rinnh Imports had anything to gain by trading on this dead rock."

"I left the company a few months ago," Kionee answered hesitantly.

"You too then?" Veea replied.

Veea's directness was making her uncomfortable in a way it hadn't during their time flying together when the _Viridian_ was newly christened. She clarified, "I'm working with the TRP now. I know the Republic admiral who works with the Telos Security Force and one day he out and asked me to join in the effort. I guess they were really stretched for freighter pilots willing to haul creatures and plants—mostly the creatures—from Onderon. I guess I wanted some change, so I took him up on it."

"I'm surprised your daddy let you go so easily," Veea commented.

"Oh, Dad's glad to see me really finding my own place now, even if it's not with the family business," Kionee replied, "I mean, I'm almost twenty-eight. I should be able to pick my own job by now."

"I'm still surprised he let you," Veea mused, "I've seen what you TRP pilots have been bringing in. Freighting in cannoks is almost as bad as your blockade running against the Mandalorians. Only this time, you've got the threat on the inside instead of in the skies."

"It's my ship, Veea, not dad's, even if he gave it to me," Kionee said a little defensively, "I can do with it what I want to. And I want to help Telos grow again. I can't stand looking down at that dead planet, thinking that it used to be home for billions of people, plants, and animals. I just feel like I have to do something about it."

"You and your altruism," Veea muttered, "It might get you killed one day."

"You think being too nice will kill me?" Kionee snapped, but quickly smoothed over her emotions. She and Veea had never seen eye-to-eye on what was really important in life. There was no point in starting an argument with an old friend, even if their last parting had been less than friendly. "What have you been up to anyway, Veea?" Kionee asked deliberately.

"Working, shipping. I don't think you really want to know the details," Veea answered tersely.

"You don't think I'd approve?" Kionee half-joked.

"Did you ever approve of smuggling?" Veea drummed her spindly fingers on the bar, "Gfersh! That was the whole reason you threw me off your stinking ship in the first place! Over a few honest credits earned."

"I don't call money earned through illegal channels 'honest credits,'" Kionee snapped.

"You wouldn't," Veea sneered.

"There's nothing honest about it," Kionee continued uninterrupted, "Smuggling disrupts the normal channels of trade, of import-export. It takes away from legitimate commerce. Plus, it puts illegal, harmful, and dangerous things into circulation. There are good reasons for the laws against the stuff smugglers bring in."

"I would bet you that at least a quarter of the spacers in this cantina are smugglers," Veea said lowly, "I can vouch for at least that many. I'd watch what you say about the profession, Blondie."

Kionee straightened up in her stool. Inside, however, her heart began to race. Although Veea's entire half of the conversation had been in Rodian, Kionee's speech flowed in and out of Galactic Basic. She certainly had said enough in Basic to offend an eves-dropping, self-important smuggler.

"You know, Rinnh Imports would take you back any time," Kionee offered feebly, "and give you another chance."

"Thanks but no," Veea replied, confident that she now had the upper-hand, "This weapons racket pays far better than you and your fruit ever did."

"Weapons racket?" Kionee blurted in Rodian, "You can't be serious! TSF has been doing their best to keep civilian weaponry to a minimum. Unaccounted-for explosives on a space station are dangerous!"

"And getting them in is tricky," Veea bobbed her head proudly, "So I am paid very well by my clients."

"Veea," Kionee hissed, "You can't be doing this."

"Oh?" the Rodian cocked her head to the side, "And who are you to tell me that?"

"I'll... I'll..." Kionee stammered.

"You'll what? Turn me in?" Veea mused. She looked Kionee over, from the nervously clenched fists to her quivering legs. After a pause, she observed, "No, you won't. You may be good friends with TSF, but you can't turn me in. You couldn't then either."

Kionee bit her lip.

"See?" Veea laughed, "And now I'm free to go about my business as usual." She stood, placing some credits on the bar for her meal. With a casual wave, she said, "It was good seeing you, Kionee. I'll catch you around."

"It would be better if you didn't," Kionee managed to say before Veea disappeared back into the cantina crowd and slipped away.

Kionee turned back to her dinner and sighed heavily. Taking up the spoon again, she idly stirred it around in the stew. Chunks of root vegetables and meat floated to the surface. "I wish Veea hadn't changed so much," she sighed to herself, "But then again, she really hasn't changed at all. It was always money with her. I thought, after all those blockades we ran together and all those people we helped, maybe she changed her mind. But, I guess not. I really should report what she's doing here, but..."

In the end, smuggler or no, Veea had been her friend.


	25. Chapter 25

Part 25- Grasping at Shadows

"They did not speak. They only attacked, materializing out of nowhere. Somehow they even seemed to be able to suppress their presences in the Force before they attacked me, and yet they were not Force users as we would know them," Master Thon, the great bearded Tchuukthai narrated from his spot on the Jedi Council circle. The chair that had once been Anika Epiere's was gone, leaving space for him to sit on the ground. Although the sounds that came from his mouth were a language that none of the other Jedi understood, he made his meaning known through the Force.

"That sounds consistent with Bastila's narrative of her attackers on Onderon," Kavar nodded thoughtfully.

"What did they look like?" Vima Sunrider asked.

"Masked and uniformed," Thon rumbled, "_In all gray and black with red tinted glasses. They all looked the same, felt the same, and attacked the same."_

"Attacked the same?" Atris asked, cupping her chin in the palm of her hand as her elbow rested on the arm of her chair.

"_They were trained in_ makashi _form, for fighting Jedi,"_ he paused and shuddered so slightly that only the tip of his wispy beard jiggled, "_And they drew the Force from me, feeding on its living energies to give them strength. In all of my days, I have never seen anything like this."_

"How they could have found you in such a remote part of the outer rim is most disturbing," Vandar nodded slowly.

"To such a creature, my presence in the Force is a loud call," Thon replied darkly, "_I have no doubt that the Force led them to me."_

"If you were not safe on Ambria, then what of our other Jedi in the field, on the edges of contested space?" Vima asked abruptly, thinking of the thinning network of Watchmen they had posted across the galaxy. How many of them were dead already that they did not know about?

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Vima," Atris reminded sharply.

"Atris, have you found any mention of Force Techniques like these in your research?" Dorak asked her, "I have found nothing, myself."

Atris shook her head gravely, "Nothing in the tomes of the Jedi."

Vima pursed her lips, she hated to ask it, but the Jedi risked far greater things already, "What of the Sith holocrons in our vault? Perhaps they might have some answers."

"It is possible..." Atris drew out slowly and thoughtfully.

"I am not sure if this is a risk we want to take," Vrook cautioned, "Those holocrons are dangerous."

"If it brings us closer to answers," Nomi started, taking a deep breath, "then it may be worth the risk. Atris, I grant you permission to use the Sith holocrons in our collection, but only yourself. I do not want to risk more than one Jedi to their tainting influence."

Atris bowed her head somberly. "They will not leave the vault," she promised, "and no mention of them will escape my lips but in this chamber."

"Good," Nomi nodded, "May your research bring us closer to the answers."

"Darkness clouds everything now," Tyjesh murmured, "It obscures our enemies from us far worse than ever during the war. But now the Sith attack from the shadows, in secret. How can we trace what we cannot see and we cannot sense?"

"There has been no sign of Revan since she disappeared over a year ago," Atris observed coolly, "Have any of you considered that this could be her doing?"

"I have considered it..." Vrook murmured.

"We should not have given her so much freedom, and now we pay for our generosity with her," Atris fumed, "She was never to be trusted."

"And yet none of this feels like Revan," Kavar put in thoughtfully. "I do not sense her behind this."

"And it isn't her style," Vima added.

"No, the enemy comes from too many different angles," Vandar agreed, "Ev would not have had time to gather such an army, even if she wanted to, in the time since she left us. I believe Master Kavar is right. The threat we are facing now is not the return of Darth Revan."

"It might be better for us if it were, unfortunately," Zez-Kai Ell admitted, "Revan is an enemy we understand and know how to face. These enemies, they are unlike any we have faced before. We know nothing of them only that they are killing Jedi."

"We could attempt to draw them out, to a confrontation," Zez-Kai Ell suggested, his blue hologram flickering in his empty chair.

"How do you suggest that, Master Ell?" Atris asked. "That may be our best chance at tracking them."

"That is absolutely out of the question," Vrook snapped before he could answer. "We will not bait this enemy. There is too much unknown here, too much at risk."

"There are too few of us left," Nomi sighed. Anika Epiere was only the first member of the council to go missing. Since then Kronn Hakkes and Ruell D'tarn had failed to return from their missions into the field. Besides them, nearly twenty other Jedi and their padawans had failed to report in on schedule. Communication was often difficult in the more remote regions of the galaxy, but Nomi feared the worst for all of them.

"Has there been any contact from the Dorin Jedi Enclave?" Kavar changed the subject.

"Not for nearly a month," Dorak replied, "Although we have hailed them repeatedly."

"For an entire enclave of Kel Dor to disappear, it is almost too much to believe," Vima commented. "The Kel Dor are powerful Jedi."

"If our enemies truly have destroyed them all, we are facing a far greater darkness than we believed before," Vandar warned. "Someone must go to investigate what has happened to our Kel Dor fellows."

"I will go," Kavar volunteered almost immediately, but his grave voice lacked enthusiasm. "I will leave this very afternoon. The sooner we know what has happened to our Kel Dor brothers, the better."

"Very well," Nomi nodded, "You are right."

Dorak cleared his throat, as if debating whether or not to steer the conversation in another direction. "There was an unexplainable tragedy this week in an outer rim mining colony," he began, "Perkkik Station only had several thousand residents and workers, mostly Felucian colonists. This week, after Felucia had not heard from them, an investigative team discovered the colony to be completely dead, with no clues as to their attackers."

"Felucians are a Force-sensitive race," Tyjesh observed, "Could this be the work of our attackers as well?"

"Anything is possible, for as little as we know," Zez-Kai replied, a hint of frustration in his voice.

"Someone from the Order must go to Perkkik Station so that we can see for ourselves if there is any connection," Kavar suggested.

"Then I will go," Vrook volunteered. "First to Felucia and then to the mining station."

A tense hush fell over the Jedi High Council Chamber. They all knew that, in all of their wisdom at the head of the Jedi Order, none of them had the answers.

"I fear that our Watchmen are in danger," Vima said slowly. "We do not know where these enemies are striking from, or what they want, but they seem to be after Jedi and other Force-sensitives. I suggest that we call them back to the temple on Coruscant, except for those in particularly vital or delicate positions."

"The Jedi Watchmen are the peace keepers in the galaxy," Vrook argued, "From their positions, they may see more than we can from the core. We need their insight."

"But they will do us much more good alive and on Coruscant than dead on the outer rim," Vima pointed out, "What they see may kill them. So far, the only Jedi to survive attacks of these assassins, as far as we know now, are Bastila Shan and Master Thon. Too many of our watchmen have gone missing already. We cannot afford to loose more. There are already less than a hundred full Jedi left in the order."

"Vima speaks true," Thon agreed, "_We must protect the Jedi we have now, until we have discovered and eliminated the source of this threat. I agree. We should call back the non-essential Watchmen and make sure all those that remain in the field are all aware of the dangers."_

Nomi already had a datapad in her hand and was scrolling fixatedly through a file. The rest of the council waited for her make her conclusions. "The only Jedi in the field right now that cannot be spared from their posts are Kaden Thuvell in the Chorlian System, finalizing peace settlements with the Sith-aligned factions on Sigil, on the edge of Sith space, and Master Lonna Vash and her padawan Kaah Ohtok investigating the recent rumors of another Sith warlord on the outer rim," Nomi concluded, "The rest, we will call back as soon as they can wrap up their current duties."

"We should call back our fellows from Agricorps as well," Vandar suggested, "They are particularly at risk without the full training of a Jedi."

Realization suddenly hit Vima. She gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. Managing the placement of apprentices who never made it to the rank of Padawan was one of her duties, a duty that she had fallen lax on with so many apprentices growing old without masters to take them. "I haven't heard from either of our agricultural teams since last month," she gaped, utterly horrified and ashamed of herself. "I did not realize it before. I have been so busy with everything else, I did not notice the drop in communication."

"We lost Agricorps as well, it seems," Vandar said mournfully.

"I will contact them immediately," Vima volunteered hurriedly, "If there is no response, then I will go see myself what has happened. They are my responsibility and my failure."

"You could not have foreseen this, Vima," Thon tried to calm her. She felt no less guilt inside of her, but the low rumble of his voice did somehow smooth over her anxiety. What was done was done.

"If only we had some clue as to the motivations or origins of these enemies," Atris sighed, "They do not appear to be like the Sith we have faced before."

"But shadows in the Force obscure everything," Tyjesh added.

"Not even our combined meditation is enough to break through the fog," Vandar lamented.

"Add more Jedi to our meditation circle, and perhaps we may reach the answers," Thon suggested.

"You mean to suggest that we bring in other members of the Jedi Order to this mystery?" Vrook asked, cautioning, "We must be careful not to cause panic, or leak our concerns to our enemy. There is safety in fewer Jedi knowing what is truly at stake."

"There is already fear in the temple, Master Vrook," Dorak pointed out, "I feel it in the uncertainties of all of our students and peers. They all know something is happening, but they do not know what."

"And neither do we," Vima added, "If the cooperation of the whole Jedi Order, all sixty-six of us, can bring us the clarity it takes to face this enemy, then let us call a conclave." Vima saw several of the other Jedi Masters flinch at her statement. In particular, Master Kavar seemed hit hard, color draining from his face. _So, many of them have not done the math yet. They did not know it was quite so desperate._

"There is too much noise in the Force on Coruscant, too much life," Atris began, "If we must call a conclave, let it be away from such distractions, such as on Exis Station."

"That station is now overrun with smugglers and other low life," Kavar pointed out.

"There are other space stations in the galaxy we could use," Vrook suggested dryly, "Many others."

"Better yet, let us find a focal point in the Force," Zez-Kai offered, "Like Felucia, Alpheridies, Katarr, or Ossus."

"I feel this is not a decision we can make just yet," Nomi cautioned, "Let each of us pursue our investigations and meditate on it. We will call back the Jedi Watchmen and learn what we can. For now, we have talked long enough this afternoon. We are spread thin now, even at the temple, and we have our duties here."

The other Jedi Masters nodded and murmured. They rose and stretched, like stiff old men and women, aged far beyond their years by the heavy burden of not knowing the danger they were in.

Vima remained in her seat near the door and breathed deeply, closing her eyes. She sunk into meditation as the other masters filtered out. Try as she might, Vima saw only clouded darkness and formless shadows. Even the simplest of questions seemed unanswerable through the Force now. The obscuring darkness came on so gradually in the last year, that she had hardly noticed it at first. None of the Jedi had. Now, their vision and clarity was too far gone.

Vima sighed and opened her eyes again on the silent and empty council chamber. Her mother still sat directly across from her in the seat of the Grandmaster. Their green eyes met and Vima sensed Nomi's pain through her gaze. They did not know, and without knowledge, they were powerless.


	26. Chapter 26

Part 26- A Friendly Favor

"_Viridan_, this is the _Sojourn _docking control. You are clear to dock in bay number two. We are lowering the ray shields now."

"Thank you _Sojourn,_" Kionee replied into the comm and took her ship in slowly to the underbelly of the hammerhead cruiser in orbit over Telos. Citadel Station sprawled out beneath both ships. These days there seemed to be a new module added almost every week. The quiet sphere of Telos looked red and barren beneath the station, but Kionee knew it not to be as lifeless as it seemed from space. In growing patches here and there across the planet, life was beginning to thrive again. Kionee had the pleasure of watching it progress with each trip she took to the surface with more plants and animals.

The rectangular window's ray shields on the hull of the ship before her flickered and ceased. Kionee eased the _Viridian _and into the docking bay of the _Sojourn_. She cut her main engines and powered up her repulsor coils, landing lightly on the deck.

"I do wonder what Admiral Onasi wants you for all of a sudden," MT-412 asked as Kionee ran through the shut down procedures of her ship.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Kionee admitted. "Probably some special shipping job or something like that. But he does have plenty of his own pilots and a shuttle or two. Why knows?" Finishing the last of her checks with mechanical efficiency, Kionee stood up and stretched. "Would you watch the ship Emtee?" she asked, "I don't think I'll be needing you when I visit Carth."

"Of course Mistress Kionee," Emtee nodded his metal head, "You need not even ask."

"Thanks Emtee," Kionee replied smiling, "I'll be back in a while."

She straightened her khaki vest and the knotted cotton scarf around her neck, then strode down into the cargo hold and out of the ship onto the _Sojourn_. A Sullustan in a crisp green navy uniform was already waiting at the foot of her loading ramp. Seeing him, she greeted in clumsy Sullustese, "_Tasbota. Agasibayo?_"

"_Agaraileyo_," he chortled in return, both pleased and surprised by her use of the language. He then addressed her in Basic, "Admiral Onasi is waiting for you, Kionee Rinnh."

"Thank you," she nodded, "Show the way."

"Right this way," he replied and started towards the doors in the back of the hangars at a brisk pace. Kionee had no trouble keeping up with him, having at least a quarter of a meter of height on him. He led her to a lift. As they waited for it to arrive, he asked, "How do you know my language? It is not common in a human."

"I make a point of knowing at least basic greetings in as many languages as I can," she replied honestly, "It seems like the polite thing to do."

He chortled a laugh. "I like the way you think," he replied, "You must be an interesting human, Kionee Rinnh."

The lift arrived and they stepped inside with the two other soldiers who were also on their way up. Two levels later, Kionee's Sullustan guide led her off and down a long corridor towards the head of the ship. Before they reached the bridge area, however, he stopped short at a door on the left wall. A plaque beside it denoted, 'Carth Onasi, Admiral.' He pressed the comm button outside the door and announced, "Kionee Rinnh is here to see you, Admiral."

"Thank you Lieutenant Snubb," Carth's voice answered, "Send her in please."

"Yes sir," Snubb replied sharply. He pressed the door command button and it slid upward abruptly. He nodded at Kionee to proceed.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Kionee said and walked inside. Snubb closed the door behind her. Carth's quarters were small, bordering on cramped. A messy desk surrounded by a few chairs took up the front section while a narrow bunk, a foot locker, and a small set of shelves filled the back. She assumed that the door in the back led to a private refresher. These were the luxuries afforded to an Admiral on his ship. Privacy, it seemed, was luxury enough in and of itself.

Carth himself sat behind the desk piled high with a mess of datapads and other articles. Another man in civilian clothes sat in one of the chairs before the desk, one leg crossed over his lap. He stood up respectfully as Kionee entered. He was nearly as tall as Kionee but much more solidly built, with thick blond hair and pleasant blue eyes.

"Kionee," Carth began, "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"Any time Carth," Kionee replied. _I still owe him a hundred times over for saving my life twice._

Carth straightened up behind his desk and extended a hand towards the other man. "Kionee, this is Mical Tarwellen," he introduced, "Mical, this is Kionee Rinnh."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Mical said and closed the space between himself and Kionee with two swift steps. His voice was mellow and almost musical. He extended his hand.

Kionee took it and shook it firmly. "It's good to meet you too," she replied, smiling. She felt her heart beating a little more quickly in her chest. Mical waited for Kionee to sit down before he resumed his place in his own chair again.

"Kionee, I have a favor to ask of you," Carth began, "If it's not too much."

"I'm sure it's not," Kionee waved it off. "What do you need from me?"

"Can you take Mical with you when you next go back to Onderon?" Carth asked.

"That's it?" Kionee laughed, "That isn't a problem at all. Going that direction I won't even have any krasna or maalraas to bother him. It's just me, Emtee, and an empty ship. We have plenty of oxygen to spare."

"Thanks Kionee," Carth replied.

"Yes, thank you," Mical added.

"You're really saving me a mess of paperwork by taking care of his transportation outside of of the navy," Carth said.

"It looks like you have enough of that already," Kionee laughed, eying the piles on his desk.

"When will you take your next trip to Onderon?" Mical asked her.

"I was planning on leaving tomorrow morning at around nine, Citadel time," Kionee replied. She quickly added, "Is that too soon for you?"

"No," Mical reassured her, "I am ready to leave whenever you are. Carth did say that you tended to run back and forth between Onderon and Telos very quickly."

"Oh good," Kionee nodded. "Did you want me to pick you up here in the morning then?"

"No, that's alright," Mical shook his head. "I have arranged for a room on Citadel Station tonight. I will meet you at your ship in the morning. Where do you usually have it docked?"

"Docking Module thirty six, bay three," Kionee answered, "The _Viridian _is a Nubian Javan-class freighter."

"Excellent," Mical nodded.

"Thank you Kionee," Carth added, "You really are doing us a big favor. I might have to ask you to bring Mical back here when he is done on Onderon too."

"That won't be a problem at all," Kionee replied quickly, "I am back there often enough, he can just catch me at the front end of one of my pick-ups."

"I would appreciate that," Mical commented.

"Well," Carth started again, "I won't hold you any longer, Kionee. Have a good evening."

Taking that as her dismissal, Kionee stood up. Mical rose with her again. "You know you can ask me to carry anyone or anything at any time," Kionee told Carth. "And it was good to meet you, Mical. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Until tomorrow then," Mical replied with a polite smile.

Kionee smiled shyly back and turned to go. She pressed the door release and hurried outside where Lieutenant Snubb was waiting to lead her back to her ship. Kionee's head felt fuzzy inside. She giddily looked forward to tomorrow's journey.

Mical was already waiting for her, staring admiringly up at her ship, when Kionee arrived at her docking bay in the morning. Hands clasped thoughtfully behind his back, Mical wore a simple cream tunic and brown vest with only a small travel satchel slung across his shoulder. Kionee stood in the hangar's entrance, looking at Mical with the same thoughtfulness that he gazed at the _Viridian_.

Even before she reached her room on Citadel Station last night, Kionee realized that she had totally forgotten to ask what Mical did or why he needed to go to Onderon in the first place. He looked fit and strong, but did not have the bearing of a soldier. He was too calm, almost gentle. If he needed Kionee's help to get to Onderon, he was obviously not a pilot. He was not aggressive enough to be a businessman. Maybe he was an ecologist like Laylien—but then again, why would Carth, an Admiral in the Republic Navy, need to send an ecologist to Onderon. TRP already had a small army of ecologists stationed there, studying the ecosystem in action. Kionee shrugged and shook her head. _I won't learn anything more by just looking at him._

She took a deep breath and started into the hangar again. Almost immediately, Mical turned to the sound of her boots against the pavement. "Good morning Kionee," he hailed her with a smile and a small wave.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Kionee apologized.

"No, don't apologize," he argued gently, "I arrived early."

"All the same..." Kionee started, but found she did not have the words to finish her argument as she drew nearer to Mical.

"I want to thank you again for agreeing to take me to Onderon," Mical started.

"No, it's nothing," Kionee replied, "I am going that way anyway. And it is nice to have a passenger now and then. You can only watch the same holovids so many times, or chat with a droid for so long."

Mical chuckled. A small whine came from the underbelly of the ship as the loading ramp began to descend.

"You have a personalized proximity sensor on it?" Mical asked, impressed, as they started towards it.

"No," Kionee answered, "That was probably just Emtee noticing that I was here."

"Emtee?" Mical questioned.

"MT-412, the family protocol droid," Kionee answered, felling a little ashamed that she had not explained that before. "He's my co-pilot too."

"A protocol droid that flies," Mical nodded, "Now that isn't something one hears of often."

"Cash, my brother, added that to Emtee's protocols when I needed a new co-pilot and it's worked out ever since," Kionee explained. Reaching the foot of the ramp, she gestured upward, "Well, let's head aboard."

They entered through the cargo hold and Mical looked around appreciatively, taking it all in. "So this is where you keep your shipments from Onderon?" he observed.

"Yup," Kionee affirmed, "It was fitted out for produce shipments, so it only need a few modifications to be ready to haul growing plants and livestock." Her dry crate storage had been converted into pens for the animals, and oxygen vents had been added to the coolers and freezers, along with a spray irrigation system. "Would you like a tour?"

"Please," Mical responded warmly, "If you would."

"Alright," Kionee nodded, "The hold here takes up most of the ship, but up this way..." they climbed the half set of steps up to the living area of the ship. At the top of the stairs two narrow corridors branched out from the larger one, which led straight into the cockpit. "There are two bunk rooms, one on each side. On the port side here is the galley. It's really not much. And on the starboard side is the 'fresher and supplies cabinet. The starboard bunk room is all yours for our trip."

"Thank you," Mical said again.

"And this is the cockpit," Kionee said, leading him forward. Wide transparisteel windows arched across the front of the ovular cockpit.

"Hello there. You must be Kionee's passenger," Emtee said suddenly, sitting in the copilot's chair already. "I am MT-412, manager of the _Viridian._"

Mical raised an eyebrow and suppressed a smile at that comment. "My name is Mical Tarwellen, a historian and scientist for the Republic," he introduced himself, putting a hand to his chest.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Mical Tarwellen," Emtee responded, "I hope you find the _Viridian _comfortable during our flight."

"I am certain I will," Mical replied, smiling.

"Well, we should be on our way," Kionee started, "Everything is ready, Emtee?"

"Sealing the hold now," Emtee reported.

"You can ride through take-off in your bunk if you'd like," Kionee told Mical.

"If you don't mind," Mical started, pointing to one of the passenger seats at the back of the cockpit, "I would rather stay here and enjoy the view of Telos' rebirth."

"Sure," Kionee quipped, her heart beating faster at the thought of Mical watching her fly. "Of course." _What's wrong with me? He's not a pilot. He's not grading me on my flying or anything. I don't have to be nervous. _"Strap in then while we get the _Viridian _going," she advised and swung around the pilot's seat. As Kionee prepared the ship's start-up processes and reviewed the hyperspace calculations that MT-412 had prepared, she felt overly self-conscious of her movements. She could hear Mical fiddling with the straps and buckle of his seat harness behind her.

"If everyone is ready, let's go," Kionee announced. She engaged the repulsorlifts and fired up the sublight engines. Emtee triggered the airlock and opened the ray shields to space. The _Viridian _lifted off the floor of the hangar and glided out. Kionee wove her way through the floating city of Citadel Station and away from the atmosphere. Checking her flight path twice, Kionee swung the _Viridian _the planet and away from the sun in an Onderon-ward arc. In minutes, the ship was free of Telos' gravity well and in the appropriate jump zone.

She eased off the sublight engines and instructed, "Engage the hyperdrive."

Emtee's mechanical hand drew the lever back and the _Viridian _launched forward, stars drawing out long white lines across the front viewports.

Kionee let out a sigh and released the control yoke. It was an easy jump she could practically execute in her sleep, but somehow, Kionee felt relieved to have it over with.

"It's a beautiful ship," Mical complimented, loosening his straps, "And it flies well too."

"My dad designed it," Kionee answered reflexively.

"Then you are the daughter of Gad Rinnh of Rinnh Imports, are you not?" Mical asked.

Unbuckling herself from her own seat, Kionee threw her legs around the side and leaned on the back, answering, "Yeah. But he was a ship designer with the Nubian Shipyard before he decided to go sell fruit."

"That is an interesting career switch," Mical said, his blue eyes dancing with excitement at the new bit of information. "Then you must be the Kionee Rinnh that was listed as one of the heroes of the Star Forge."

"Ah, that," Kionee blushed, "Right. I was just kind of in the wrong place at the right time and I managed to live through it all."

"What do you mean by that?" Mical asked, "The Republic was rather selective on the details it released to the media on your mission. If you don't mind, that is."

"I, uh, well, I thought I could smuggle some kolto off Manaan under the noses of the Selkath and the Sith," Kionee admitted, embarrassed, "It was a stupid idea, but there was an outpost on Erai that I knew was almost totally out of kolto and couldn't get any more because of the dead-lock between the Sith and the Republic on Manaan."

Mical nodded, uninterrupting.

"The Sith caught me and locked me up on the _Leviathan_," Kionee continued, "I only got out alive because they also caught the _Ebon Hawk _that day, and those guys went in with a plan of escape. Ev happened to see me in my holding cell and broke me out, because that's the kind of woman she is."

"By Ev you mean Revan?" Mical inquired.

"Yeah," Kionee answered, "I was with them when Malak appeared and told Ev that she really was Revan and didn't remember it."

"Then it is true that Revan's redemption was not a choice of her free will," Mical marveled.

Kionee nodded. "From the sound of it, I'm pretty sure the Jedi did it to her, hoping that she would turn around and save the Republic, not knowing her own past," Kionee replied, "But I was a bit of an outsider with that group. After I got the _Viridian _back and we all got off the _Leviathan_, I followed them to Korriban. I didn't know what to make of the whole Revan thing, but I knew I couldn't just let it slip by. And then I got caught spying on them, just as the Sith realized that they were there and I wound up on their ship for the rest of their mission.

"Carth likes to make a big deal out of how I flew during that last battle. I was his co-pilot after Ev left with Bastila and I didn't freeze up under Bastila's battle meditation," Kionee admitted, "That was the most I did for them. I really didn't deserve the Cross of Glory that they gave me."

"Still, in that you kept the crew alive," Mical argued, "and that alone is worthy of recognition. Heroes are worth little once they are dead."

"But I'm no hero," Kionee replied.

"I suspect that is only because you don't want to be," Mical pointed out.

Kionee flushed. _It might be true._ "You said you were a historian?" Kionee asked, flustered, turning the conversation away from herself.

"Yes," Mical nodded, "and a scientist, though my peers would call me more of a historian than a scientist. Recently, I have been studying the Jedi Civil war and the Jedi's part in it. I would love to ask you more questions about your travels with Revan and Bastila later, if that is alright with you."

"Of course," Kionee agreed, "Though I don't have that much to tell. I only joined them at the end."

"Anything you can say to help illuminate the true course of events during the end of the Jedi Civil war would be greatly appreciated," Mical said.

"So that brought you to Onderon?" Kionee asked. "I thought Onderon was pretty much untouched during the Jedi Civil War. That's why we have had such luck getting the ecosystem out of there now. One reason, anyway."

Mical nodded. "But all history affects the events that come after it," he explained, "Onderon has held an important place in several previous wars where the Sith were present."

"Right," Kionee nodded, searching her brain for the history she studied as a child, "Duxn was a major battleground during the Mandalorian wars, but that was just Mandalorians, not Sith. Though, Onderon was the site of some battles with the Krath, right?"

"Related to the Krath and Exar Kun," Mical nodded, "It was in that war that the galaxy lost Arca Jeth and his students had their first encounter with the Dark Side. One went on to become a Sith Lord while another is now the Grandmaster of the Jedi order. But Onderon has had ties to the Sith much older than that." He paused, then asked, "About how long does it take to get to Onderon from Telos?"

"About twenty nine standard hours," Kionee replied. "A pretty short jump."

"You must be accustomed to plenty of long space travel," Mical said, turning the conversation away from himself.

"Yeah," Kionee agreed, "I grew up doing it. The _Viridian _my home. Or at least it was until I got my apartment on Citadel Station. Still, it feels like home to me. Where are you from, Mical?"

"These days I have been traveling around considerably as well, though I was educated on Alderaan," Mical did not answer the question directly.

"You're not with the navy, so how did you meet Carth?" Kionee asked.

"I came to him hoping to further my research on the quest of the _Ebon Hawk _and her crew," Mical explained, "and we found that we had similar interests, as far as research is concerned. We decided to collaborate, his resources and my mobility."

Kionee nodded, wondering what Carth was interested in researching now that he would need Mical's help with. Carth had the Telos Restoration Project to worry about already.

"How about your family?" Kionee asked.

"I have not been in contact with them lately, regrettably," Mical answered, clearly not wanting to say more.

"Sorry," Kionee murmured.

"No, it is alright," Mical reassured her. He stood up and stretched. "Now that we are safely in hyperspace, would you mind showing me how to use your food synthesizer?"

"I can whip up something really quick," Kionee said, standing up out of her own seat quickly, "The _Viridian's _is a bit complicated, so don't worry about it. What kind of food do you like?"

"Whatever you come up with is fine with me," Mical assured her.

"Great," Kionee replied nervously and headed for the galley, "Feel free to make yourself comfortable in the meanwhile, or pick Emtee's brain about Onderon if you want."

Kionee shuffled into the galley feeling light-headed and nervous all at once. If she had not been so practiced at creating meals from the synthesizer, she probably would have botched it in her absent-mindedness. It had to be over a year since she took a passenger on the _Viridian _with her, probably longer. After all that time, her ship felt like a very private space to her while in space. Kionee hardly felt like Mical was invading that privacy, however. He was engaging, polite, and obliging. She really did enjoy having someone new to talk to and to learn from. Mical piqued her curiosity. She could tell, just by the way he talked, that he knew a lot and had a lot to say, but left much left unsaid.

Kionee suddenly had the urge to offer her services to other passengers for the TRP back and forth between Telos and Onderon, if only because she hoped Mical would take her up on it again. She itched to know him better.

Mical sauntered down the narrow corridor and tried to look around her at the food synthesizer as she worked. "These machines have always fascinated me," he admitted, "How they can take elemental building blocks and turn them into synthesized food."

"It usually doesn't taste too far from the real thing either," Kionee said, "Even if the texture is often a bit off. I'm trying to do this Tetan satay and rice dish that my brother had at his wedding. It usually turns out pretty good synthesized." She tapped away at the key pad, balancing out the ingredients. A few more clicks and she was finished. "It will be about another fifteen minutes," she said.

"You have my thanks again, Kionee," Mical said.

Kionee felt a shiver tickle up her spine as he mentioned her name and turned back to the synthesizer to hide her blush.

The rest of the trip passed pleasantly. After their meal, Mical retired to his bunk to do some reading, but later appeared again to ask Kionee about her adventures on the _Ebon Hawk. _He was particularly interested in Ev, every aspect of her that Kionee could remember. Kionee herself had not seen Ev since after the awards ceremony on Coruscant, but she heard it from rumor even before Carth admitted it himself that Ev had left on another quest of her own with Juhani. No one, not even Carth, seemed to know where she had gone or what she was seeking, but the fact was, that she had gone. Mical seemed troubled by this, more than anything. Nothing Kionee said about Ev's generous character seemed to reassure him completely.

The next afternoon, they came out of hyperspace in Onderon's system. Although she did not have to, Kionee approached the planet over the back of its moon Duxn. The vibrant green planet rose dramatically up over Duxn's misty horizon. She hoped Mical would appreciate the view. As she flew, Kionee narrated about how many of the plants and animals used on Telos were also found on Duxn, and were actually from Duxn, carried over when the moon's ovular orbit took it close enough for the two atmospheres to touch. From the way Mical responded, he seemed to already know all of this, but he listened politely to Kionee anyway.

They broke through Onderon's atmosphere and landed in the outer west quarter of Iziz, where Kionee's contacts were stationed. Once landed, Kionee walked Mical off of the ship as he took only his satchel with him.

"Thank you for the ride, Kionee," he said as their feet touched down on the stony ground of Iziz. "And for your company. It has been a pleasure."

"Any time," Kionee replied welcomingly, "If you want a ride back to Telos once you are finished here, you are more than welcome to catch a ride on the _Viridian _when I am on my way back from a run, as long as you don't mind the cannoks."

Mical chuckled and smiled. "I would not mind them at all," he insisted.

"Just get a hold of Rajan when you want to return," Kionee explained, "He is the head of the Beast Riders in this area, so if you ask any of the western Beast Riders around here, they can put you in touch with him. He is my contact here, so he can let me know when you are ready to leave."

"Thank you," Mical nodded.

"Good luck with your research," Kionee said. "I hope it goes well."

"I hope so too," Mical replied and turned to go, "I will see you again, Kionee."

"Bye Mical," she said with a small wave and watched him go. He strode off quickly, out of the landing bay without stopping to ask the guard at the door for directions. Kionee marveled at Mical's confidence. He admitted never having been to Iziz before, but he walked off as if he had.

Kionee caught her breath and sighed. She really did hope that Mical's research went well and that he finished soon, so that she could give him a ride back to Telos again and hear all about it. She smiled to herself just thinking about it.


	27. Chapter 27

Part 27- The Conclave of the Jedi

Bastila hung in the doorway to the large transport hangar of the Jedi Temple, watching the last remaining Jedi file onto the final transport, wishing she could be a part of it. The hopes of all the Jedi rested on the conclave on Katarr. Now, fewer than fifty Jedi and their apprentices remained alive. They all believed—or at least hoped—that concentrated meditation of the entire Jedi Order on such a Force-sensitive world as Katarr would finally bring them the answers about their shadowy attackers. The Miraluka were all seers, the Force giving them sight where solar radiation had deprived their race of eyes. The Jedi desperately hoped that with the Miraluka, they too would be able to see clearly.

Jedi Conclaves, through history, were momentous, dramatic moments for the Order where much was decided and much was learned. This moment seemed far from those histories. This conclave was a desperate attempt to grasp at the truth and save the Jedi. A heavy shadow weighed on the departing Jedi's shoulders: if this does not work, then what? Are the Jedi really doomed?

Bastila gave a start as she felt a gentle hand resting on her shoulder. She turned and saw the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order standing beside her, swathed in a green cloak. She looked pensive and concerned. There was beauty in the wrinkles of her face and compassion in her green eyes as she stared out at the last transport. Nomi Sunrider's presence was always such a gentle one, despite her position in the order and power as Jedi, yet Bastila suddenly found herself in awe of the wispy woman. So much rested on her shoulders every moment of every day and yet she handled it with fairness, wisdom, and grace. Bastila hardly deserved to be called a Jedi, when compared to Nomi.

"Take care of the temple for us while we are gone, Bastila," Nomi said at last, letting out a long breath.

"I will, Master Nomi," Bastila promised, bowing her head.

"Force willing, with our return, we will bring clarity," she said, squeezing Bastila's shoulder, "Thank you, Bastila." She released Bastila's shoulder and strode off smoothly towards the transport, forest green cape billowing in the wake of her footsteps.

"May the Force be with you," Bastila said numbly after her.

After Nomi boarded, the transport's passenger door slid shut and loading ramp retracted. The engines began to hum, glowing a brilliant white-blue. Repulsorlifts hissed and the ship lifted off the docking bay's deck, slowly pivoting in the air, then, with a rushing roar from the engines, it blasted out of the hangar and away.

Bastila turned back into the Jedi Temple and started slowly back down the corridor with a sigh. She followed a winding path from one hallway to another until she reached the center section of the temple again. Dustil was waiting there for her, as he had promised he would be.

"So they're all gone then?" Dustil commented as he saw her coming.

Bastila nodded, "The last transport has gone and Master Nomi Sunrider went with them. The Jedi Temple is under our care now." Although Dustil was now officially her padawan, and had been for almost a year now, Bastila still could not bring herself to think of him as such. He was Ev's Padawan learner, and Snow was hers, but Ev was gone and Snow was dead, so they had to make do with each other.

"Why did they leave you behind here anyway?" Dustil asked.

"To take care of the younglings and other apprentices still at the temple while all of the Masters are gone," Bastila replied, "The Masters are all too important to the conclave to remain behind here and babysit."

"I know that," Dustil retorted, "But why you? Not that you're a weird choice or anything like that."

Bastila sighed. "Because I still have my bond with Ev, however weak it is now," Bastila explained heavily, "And there are some among the Jedi that suspect all of this is her fault. They do not want me to be a part of the conclave for fear that I might leak something of their discussions and feelings to Ev through our bond."

"That's crazy!" Dustil blurted, "Ev would never attack the Jedi like that. She's—"

There was a soft chiming sound at the other end of the hall and the lift doors slid open. Atris strode briskly out, long white tabards flapping against her knees.

"Master Atris," Bastila gaped, "I did not know you were still here. The last transport has already—"

"I know," she replied tersely as she brushed by them, "No matter. I will take one of the fighters myself."

"May the Force be with you, Master Atris," Dustil called after her, but she gave no response verbally other otherwise. Soon, she was out of sight down the hall and around a corner. "I would have thought that she would be one of the first ones on the transports to Katarr," he thought out loud after she had gone.

Bastila nodded, pursing her lips. "It isn't like Atris to be late for anything," she agreed, "and certainly not for something as important as this; the Jedi conclave that she herself planned and organized."

"Well," Dustil began with the shrug, "All the apprentices are in the main briefing hall, waiting for you. I hope you have something planned for the next week, or we're going to have lots of bored kids on our hands."

"Master Waykennit gave me a plan of activities for them," Bastila replied, wishing she felt as confident as she sounded. "Let's go." Leading two hundred-some Jedi apprentices, if only for a few days, was a daunting task, and not one she had ever been trained or prepared for. Her own Padawan had been older than herself. These students ranged from toddlers still pushing toys around with the Force all the way up apprentices as old as Dustil who never were chosen by a master as the Jedi numbers grew too thin.

Dustil and Bastila started off together. They did not have far to go. Chatter in the large, circular hall was low and anxious. Apprentices of all ages were scattered throughout the chairs on each raised stair-step of the chamber, talking and waiting. Bastila felt apprehension and hope thickly in the air.

Bastila did not need to call for attention. As the apprentices noticed her and Dustil's arrival, they broke off their conversations and fell silent to many young children's insistent, "Shh!"

Projecting her voice out with the Force, Bastila began, "As you all have doubtless heard, I am Bastila Shan and I will be taking care of you all and the Jedi Temple until all of the rest of the Jedi return from Katarr. My padawan Dustil Onasi is also here to help with anything you might need." She paused and took a deep breath, mustering all the hopeful feelings she could to project outwards towards the apprehensive younglings, "The conclave on Katarr will give the Jedi clarity on the mysterious threats we face. May their mediation bring us answers.

"All of the apprentices age thirteen and up," Bastila continued—and there were frighteningly many older apprentices these days, "have each been assigned to one or two youngling clans. Younglings, you can count on them to help you with anything you need. If you have any troubles that go beyond what they can do, please come and find Dustil or me right away.

"The Jedi Masters wish us to use this time to find peace within us. Without classes for the week, I urge you to practice, play, read, meditate, do whatever brings you peace and balance," Bastila instructed, "Only you may not at any time leave the temple. These are dangerous times for the Jedi and we are all safest within these temple walls."

"We want help the other Jedi too," a youngling on the second row of chairs mewed.

"Yeah, Bastila," Lashowe called from the back, "We want to meditate too. Maybe we can help the conclave from here once it starts. There are still a lot of us here."

The idea was met with enthusiastic entreaties from all corners of the room.

Bastila raised her hand for silence, and the room fell quiet, to only a low murmur. "If that is what you all want, then so we shall," she decided for them, "Master Nomi Sunrider said that the conclave should begin tomorrow evening. I will find out exactly what time, and we can all meet together here and mediate on the threat."

Beside her, Dustil nodded approvingly. Confidence rose up in Bastila again, glad to really be doing something for the Jedi and not a cast-off Jedi Knight stuck with the duty of babysitting.

Jolee hung around the airfield, admiring the Miraluka at their work. Jolee half expected Katarr to be a drably colored world with off-balance aesthetics, but that was far from the truth. Despite their lack of eyes and normal eyesight, the Miraluka managed to maintain a world that was both pleasing to however it was that they saw through the Force and to those seeing their world through the seven-color spectrum. The Miraluka at the airfield were tastefully dressed in a wide range of colors, even the pilots and ship mechanics. They went about their business without faltering, and without eyesight. The only part of it that Jolee found somewhat unnerving was that the direction of their head and attention was not necessarily towards the jobs they were focused on. Many seemed to be staring off into space—if they had been able to stare at all. The few Miraluka Jedi Jolee had known all seemed to have ironed out that habit, being around enough other sentients who found that unnerving. These planet-side Miraluka had no need to accommodate queasy aliens.

The last of the Jedi transports had just landed on the duracrete landing field. Jolee saw it coming in from orbit, and even sensed its approach. Four years of being back in the Jedi order, trying to think like the Jedi, had certainly honed his senses in the Force.

Jolee strolled over to it, past two Miralukan freighters. Their crew paid him no attention. The side door of the Jedi transport slid open with a hiss and a low ramp slid out and tilted into the pavement. Among the first off the transport was a face Jolee knew well. "About time you showed up Nomi," he called, sauntering up with a lop-sided grin, "We were going to start without you if you had dragged your feet getting here any longer."

Nomi laughed, her eyes dancing, and swept up to him. Even at her age, she still looked magnificent. "You're getting to be just as impatient as a youngling, Jolee," Nomi teased and began walking with him away from the transport.

"Now don't you go there Nomi," Jolee scolded, waving a finger playfully at her.

Nomi laughed again. "It is good to have you back, Jolee," she beamed, "I don't know what we did without you all these years."

"You keep saying that," Jolee said, proudly rolling back his shoulders into a taller posture, "But I know you Nomi, and I know you were doing just fine before I got my wrinkled behind back in the Jedi Order, no thanks to that ambitious kid Ev. As soon as I come back, the Jedi start dying off like fruit flies. You might have been better off without me, if I bring that kind of luck."

Nomi's expression darkened. "By the time you rejoined us, Jolee, we had already lost over half of the Jedi Order," she said quietly, "We have lost over half again of our numbers even since then. In these days, ever Jedi counts. If only for that, I am so glad to have you back."

"Oh, so you were fooling with me this whole time," Jolee feigned offense, "I thought you liked having me back because the Order was missing some good old Bindo sense of humor."

"And some good old Bindo sense of loyalty," Nomi replied, nudging him with her elbow as they walked.

Beyond the wide field that was the airfield, the small Miralukan town of Evia spread out around them in neat rows on gently curving streets. Jolee had thought that the city plan, woven through with arcing roads and alleyways, run through by an ebbing stream or two, looked a bit like a flower beside the huge rectangle of the duracrete airfield. None of the shops or houses stood higher than three stories, and most not even that. Greenery, bushes, and flowers lined the streets. Most of the traffic was pedestrian with a few small, quiet speeders gliding through at relaxed speeds.

Evia was not the capital of Katarr, or even a capital city of any of the provinces. However, it was the site of a powerful Force nexus. If Evia was a flower, then its center was the sprawling temple in its center, built right over the top of the Force nexus. Local history held that the famed Miraluka Jedi Tropis Langan had held his own Jedi Enclave in that one temple many centuries ago, before the Miraluka Jedi joined up with the Jedi on Ossus. To this day, the ancient temple stood as an impressive monument, cared for with pride by the local Miraluka.

As they drew nearer to the center of town, Jolee began to catch glimpses of the great domed structure of the temple over housetops and down alleyways. Miraluka paused in their work as the train of Jedi passed by. They raised their heads in silent solutes, respectful smiles on their faces. Jolee felt their respect and optimism for the Jedi. The Miraluka, all who had no more idea of the threat the Jedi faced, believed in them. They knew the Jedi were here for answers, and the truly believed that the Jedi would find the answers the sought, meditating in their temple. Jolee's spirits had lifted ever since he stepped off the transport and onto Katarr's soil, drinking in their hope. It had been too easy to feel bitter and dismal during the long hyperspace journey.

"What do you think we will see, Nomi?" Jolee asked her as they walked, craning his neck for another view of the temple they approached down winding roads.

"Or will we even see anything? I don't know, Jolee," Nomi answered honestly. "I can only hope that it will be more than the shadows that have clouded the Force for the last months. Today, we must break through or forever be in the dark."

Jolee sensed the doubt roll off Nomi in waves. It caught him by surprise. Usually Nomi was very guarded in her thoughts and emotions. As the head of the Jedi Order, she had to be. He stopped in the middle of the foot road and, turning to face her, caught Nomi's arm with one firm hand. "Nomi, let me tell you this," he said, fixing his gaze firmly on her, "Even if we don't find anything today, that doesn't make you any kind of failing leader. You said yourself that these are dark times. You're doing the best I damn well know you can do. You've got worse Jedi to deal with than me on your council, and you're doing everything you can do save it. There might not be many of us, but we've been in worse spots as an order. Don't blame yourself, Nomi. If you want to blame someone, blame Mandalore, blame Revan—but I won't let you go blaming Ev for any of this—blame this boogie man that wants us all dead, but not yourself. You hear me, Nomi?"

Nomi pulled away from him and smiled distantly. "Thank you Jolee. This is why I am so glad to have you back. You always seem to see everything so clearly. I can only hope that your clarity will lead us to some answers today," she replied. "Master Thon did say something like that a few days ago. I do always wonder what the order could have been like if he had taken the role of Grandmaster years ago, but he insisted that he did not want to sit on the council for longer than his short term during the war with the Krath. He preferred the life of an outer rim Watchman."

"And didn't want you to think you could go on relying on him all the time," Jolee put in as they began to walk again. They walked the rest of the way to the center of town where the rest of the Jedi waited for them with a group of Miraluka hosts. The other Jedi from Nomi's transport had caught up and were following along right with them by the time they reached the wide field around Langan's Temple.

About sixty Jedi and Padawans milled about the field or sat on the wide steps up to the interior of the temple. Among those nearest to him, Jolee spotted the young Jedi Master Embrik Waykennit deep in a heated conversation with the Bimm seer Tyjesh Kay, swathed in her usual brilliant yellow robes.

"And I am telling you that it cannot be Ev behind this," he said vehemently, "It does not have her signature about it. Certainly, Revan always acted with calculated subtlety, but secrecy and espionage is not her style. I do not sense her in it at all."

"She is a changed woman, is she not?" Tyjesh argued evenly, "What is to say that she has not learned new strategies in this new mind of hers? I did hear that she had an intense research project that took her to archives all over Coruscant when our own archive could not satisfy her, spending a particularly concentrated effort at the military archives."

"I can't tell you what that was," Embrik retorted impatiently, "But you are right, she is a changed woman. She loves the Jedi. She loves and works for peace. She truly is repentant in this new life we gave her. Ev would never seek to do the Jedi Order harm like this."

"Master Waykennit," Tyjesh began seriously with an irritable twitch of her long, furry ears, "You have a blind spot, and that blind spot is Revan Roan'evrue Pell. Will you forever think back to that mewing babe in your arms as a teen or that astute child you wished you could have taken as your own apprentice? Revan was and is dangerous."

"It is you who has it wrong, Master Kay," Embrik replied, fighting to keep his temper even. "We will find nothing if we go into this with any sort of pre-conceived notions about who we think has been killing these Jedi."

"And thus you should not be so fixated on denying Ev as a suspect," Tyjesh retorted.

"Enough," Nomi strode up to them, unable to watch the argument go on any longer. "Both of you are right. We must go into this with clear minds, free of assumptions and suspicions." She paused, leveling warning stares at each of them in turn, "and, most of all, free of conflict. I should not have to tell you this."

"Of course, Master Sunrider," Embrik said, bowing his head and looking thoroughly chastised. Tyjesh Kay, on the other hand, only nodded briskly and turned away to seek out other conversation partners.

Nomi looked up and saw a cluster of regal looking Miraluka at the entrance of the temple. She swiftly mounted the long set of shallow stone steps leading up to the temple, Jolee following less gracefully after. At the top, she turned down to the grassy lawn and began, projecting loudly, "Knights, Masters, and Padawans of the Jedi Order, we have called this conclave, the first since the conclave on Exis Station forty years ago, in order to discover the source of the threat that hunts us now from the shadows. The people of Katarr have graciously allowed us into this, their holy temple of the Force in order to connect with the Living Force. Let us enter and begin this conclave."

The Jedi, some of whom had been lazing around Evia for a day or more waiting for the conclave to begin, all straightened up with a sense of grim purpose and began filing into the temple.

Again, Jolee hung back, staying by Nomi's side as all the Jedi passed by. For nearly the entire order being present, the gathering seemed meager. Jolee had not been at the Exis Station conclave himself, but he knew it had been far more impressive and lively, but that was a more prosperous time for the Jedi Order.

As he watched the Jedi pass by, a thought occurred to him. "You know, Nomi," he said quietly, "I don't see that old icicle Atris. I thought she organized this whole thing."

Nomi drew back, and nodded. "You're right," she said, "I don't think she is here. I thought she was supposed to be on your transport."

Jolee shook his head. "Our logs said that she was supposed to be on yours," he replied.

Nomi pressed her lips together thoughtfully. "I hope she finds her way to us," she said.

Back in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, Bastila and Dustil gathered the Jedi Apprentices in the large debriefing hall once again. Each cluster of younglings followed on the heels of a shepherding older apprentice, quietly and seriously finding seats near their friends and clan mates. Bastila had never seen the playful children of the Jedi look so concentrated, so grave before. It was as if, somehow, even the youngest understood what was at stake, and they wanted desperately to help.

Bastila stood in the center of the circular room on the lowest level of the floor, watching the seats fill up while Dustil directed each group to an empty section. All sound in the room seemed dead, far from its usual reverberations. Bastila felt an itching at the back of her mind. She tried to fight off a feeling of apprehension, but could not when she saw it in the faces of so many others. Perhaps the Jedi on Katarr had already begun their meditations. Perhaps that was the source of the tickling at the back of her mind. Somehow, the sensation felt familiar.

She brushed away her fears and concentrated on the large lecture hall around her, counting the groups. All of the clans were accounted for.

Dustil returned to her side and nodded meaningfully. "Everyone's here," he reported. "How are we going to do this?"

"Alright everyone," Bastila announced, "Here we have our own conclave on Coruscant while the rest of the Jedi meet together on Katarr. Let us meditate together and may the strengths of our minds bring us answers. Close your eyes and reach out into the Force. See the darkness hiding in the shadows and pursue it. Push the fog away until we have clarity."

With that, she glanced at Dustil and nodded. They retreated to two seats on the lowest level, sat down, and closed their eyes. Bastila breathed deeply, feeling the Force surge around them, drawing them all together as a part of the living Force itself. She sank deeper away from consciousness, letting her meditations draw her into the ebb and flow of the life and universe around her.

The domed hall of the ancient Jedi training temple was massive from the inside. Each footfall, comment, or even whisper reverberated from every corner of the room. The Force sang through every fiber, ever wisp of air in the chamber. It echoed with every sound and with every movement. It tied every living being, every Jedi and every Miraluka in the temple together, to the very fabric of the universe. Just feeling it around her, seeing all of her fellow Jedi joined with almost as many supportive Miraluka, Nomi's doubts and fears for the conclave began to fade away.

Stone carved reliefs, softened by the elements of the ages, and faded frescoes decorated the walls and domed ceiling. The Miraluka of Evia had generously provided over a hundred floor cushions of different shapes, sizes, and colors for the Jedi and all those others gathered with them to sit on.

Nomi knew her place. She walked among the concentric circles of cushions to find the cushion at the very center. She slipped off her low boots and set them aside, then stood on the cushion, waiting. The other members of the Jedi council formed the first circle around her, followed by the other Jedi Masters, then the Jedi Knights, with the padawans sitting behind their masters. Around the edge in several more rows were all of the Miraluka who also came to support the Jedi with their own sight in the Force. As the Jedi shuffled around, trying to arrange themselves auspiciously according to rank, the Miraluka were the first to sit down. Soon, the other Jedi got the point and, from Nomi's vantage point, the circular room was now a sea of eyes, hairlines, and foreheads.

Turning slowly around in a circle so that she could see every last person in the room, she spoke, "Knights of the Jedi Order, people of Katarr, thank you for answering my summons. The Jedi are faced with an unprecedented threat, one that could wipe us off the face of the galaxy, but we are grasping at what few clues we have without finding an answer—a source for the danger. This cannot go on any longer. A galaxy without the Jedi is not one I want to imagine.

"Today, here, we must do together what none of us has been able to do alone. We must see through the hazy darkness that has clouded the Force and discern who or what is attacking us. If possible, we must find out where it is coming from and how to stop it," Nomi said. She raised her hands into the air for added effect and entreated, "Then join me, friends, in meditation. Let each man and woman give themselves over to the Force, so that they are no longer themselves, but a part of a greater whole in the Force. Let the Force guide us to the answers we seek." With that, she lowered her hands and lowered herself down onto her cushion. Her joints complained, but she tried to ignore it. She would not let her age bother her, not now. Jolee caught her eyes as she sat and flashed her a grin. She could not help but smile back him.

With a sigh, she pushed even Jolee's quirky charms out of her mind. She closed her eyes and settled into the cushion, joining in with the collective rhythmic breathing that was overtaking the hall.

Nomi sunk into the Force, letting herself go. Her own identity was swept away by the currents of the Force around her. She was no longer Nomi, she was the Jedi Order. With every individual that let go of their own self, the 'self' she felt as the Jedi grew in strength, clarity, and purpose. Nomi felt bigger than she ever had before, the Force Nexus boosting all of it together.

Slowly, something began to resolve itself in the collective mind of the Jedi.

Smoldering anger, resentment, an uncontainable desire for revenge.

Lust.

Hunger.

The Jedi balked at all of these emotions, overwhelmed by such powerful feelings that their collective presence had rarely felt before. The Miraluka mind around them reassured that these were normal, but powerful feelings, far more powerful that they ought to be.

Sith? the Jedi wondered.

Shadows. A scream of many voices, far greater than the combined voices of the Jedi here. Shadows. Pain. Malachor V.

Now there was something, the Jedi realized, a source.

The hunger, the yearning, it grew. It intensified. It resembled a being, a single signature in the Force. The hunger knew no bounds.

The anticipation for what would come. The collective Jedi conciseness reached out, probing, eager for what was about to happen. There was a rush of something—the truth—coming closer, an unvoiced scream of exhilaration.

There was

Earsplitting screams pierced the air in the Jedi temple. Bastila's hands flew to her ears, trying to block out the pain. She did not realize that she was screaming herself until her voice cracked, throat painfully raw. Her eyes were open, but she could not see anything. She doubled over with a pain that was beyond just herself or her own body. It was the pain of the Jedi. The Force was screaming through her, and through every apprentice and youngling in that chamber.

Bastila came to her sense and found herself again. _I am Bastila Shan. This is the Jedi Temple. I am a Knight of the Jedi Order, master to Dustil Onasi, and temporary care-taker to all of the apprentices of the Jedi._ She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again then took in what was all around her. She _knew_ something was wrong. _No, worse than wrong. Devastating._

The apprentices were like a chaotic swarm, flailing, wailing, and crying. Some stood, ripping at their hair in gestures of anguish. Others lay collapsed on the auditorium floor, quivering with fear and exhaustion. Nearby, a cluster of the youngest of the Jedi younglings poured around one of their friends. One child tugged at his boots while another furiously shook his shoulders.

"Wake up! Come on! Wake up!" another cried shrilly.

"He's dead! Kevu is dead! Kevu's Dead!" the older apprentice who was supposed to be caring for the group screamed in horrified dismay.

Dustil, grasped at her arm and held tight. His hand trembled and his face was pale. His attention snapped up to the top ring of the auditorium, and Bastila followed his gaze. The Force screamed out a silent warning. An instant later, a silver lightsaber hissed to life. Lashowe screamed. Her eyes were wide with an insanity beyond her control. With a roar, she swung her silver blade at the nearest students. Two of them crumpled to the ground, cut in two.

More screams.

Bastila watched in horror as Lashowe thrashed her way through apprentice after apprentice, rooted to the spot. All of whom were too stunned, to confused, to overwhelmed with the wound in the Force to defend themselves.

Dustil rocketed forward, leaping up the terraced rows of seats through the masses of other youth. He pushed them aside like blades of grass in a wind-swept field, never slowing. "Lashowe!" he roared as he leaped in front of her, both lightsaber blades ignited: blue and violet.

With a crazed scream, she tightened both hands around the hilt of her lightsaber and swung hard and high. It was a stupid move. Dustil attacked like lightning, blocking her lightsaber with his left and stabbing into her gut with his right. More younglings screamed. With a gurgle and a gasp, her lightsaber hilt fell from her hands and she felt to her knees, then back onto her haunches before tipping over to the side with her eyes rolling back into her head.

A flicker of self-loathing crossed over Dustil's face, but he shook it off. He extinguished both lightsabers and leaped up onto a chair. "Everyone calm down!" he yelled, Projecting over all the frantic cries that still reverberated throughout the room. "I don't know what happened, and yeah, whatever it was, it was bad, but we can find out what it was. Screaming and yelling like this isn't going to get us any closer to the answer. Now calm down! Take lots of deep breaths. Remember where we are. We're safe in the middle of the Jedi Temple!"

The surge of pride Bastila suddenly had for Dustil was swiftly overwhelmed by the intense, familiar prickling at the back of her mind. She tried to push it off, blaming it on the shock in the Force moments before, but it only grew stronger, more ominous. Realization hit her like a gong, leaving her trembling with fear. "They're here!" she blurted frantically, "Everyone protect yourself! They're here!"

The air in the doorway, and even filling the lowest level of the room, shimmered with personal cloaking devices. With hissing, hungry roars, a dozen assassins just like those she and Snow had fought on Onderon materialized. Seeing them again sent a stabbing feeling through her heart, but revenge or mourning were the last things on her mind. _They have been in the Temple all this while._ There were certainly more than just a dozen. Her senses were muddled, but they were clear in at least that much.

Bastila was on her feet with her lightsaber humming in her hands before she knew it herself. Two of the assassins charged her and she swung down at their charge, using her advantage of higher ground as best as she could. She cut one down, but the second swung his Force pike fiercely, working to get behind her defense.

Around her, children screamed in terror and in pain. All around her, the assassins were slaughtering defenseless children. She faltered for a moment, as it hit her that only a handful of the oldest apprentices actually carried practice sabers around the Jedi Temple, and of those, really only the ex-Sith students knew much about using lightsabers well. At best, there were twenty other lightsabers in the entire hall.

Bastila leaped down, beating back her attacker while keeping her senses wide open to attacks from behind. Glancing around the room, the number of attackers seemed to have doubled, and yet she sensed even more. There were even fewer active lightsabers than she had hoped for. The death and pain all around her rang through her spirit as loudly as the reverberating cries of pain.

Dustil was still half way up the stairs, fiercely defending three younglings from two eager assassins. He seemed focused on nothing else. Elsewhere, the attackers had spread out across the room, taking down anyone in their path.

"Everyone run! Get out of here if you can!" she ordered, whirling herself and her saber around her to keep the attackers away. _If only I could get into battle meditation, then we would stand a chance. But there is no way I can in the middle of a fight, with all of this pain and noise around me. _She tried and tried again, but it kept slipping away from her.

She hazarded a glance at Dustil. All three of the younglings he had been protecting were dead. Now he fought fiercely for his own life. Suddenly, another attacker materialized behind him. "Dustil, behind you," Bastila yelled, swinging off her own attackers.

He made a frantic glance over his shoulder, then gathered his energy and leaped over the heads of the assassins in front of him. Somersaulting in the air, he landed in the fray on the lowest level with Bastila.

"We don't stand a chance, Bastila," Dustil yelled as he cut down two surprised assassins around him, "Let's get out of here!"

Bastila did not need any urging. She gaged the distance between herself and the doorway, backed up onto the higher step behind her then leaped up and over the assassins. Two sabers whirling, Dustil cut and batted his way through.

Moments later, the two of them were tearing down the temple corridors at top speed, taking energy from the Force to propel them forward faster than their bodies could normally handle. A few of the assassins tried to follow, but unassisted by the Force, they quickly fell behind.

"This way!" Dustil said, veering sharply down a side hallway. While Bastila fled aimlessly, Dustil seemed to have a plan. "To the hangar," he added.

Bastila nodded wordlessly, just concentrating on their flight and probing the area around them for signs of more assassins. Her long saber hilt bumped against her leg as they ran, but she was ever ready to use it again if needed.

Fortunately, there was no need for it. The pair skidded into the hangar and looked around. Dustil dashed straight for the nearest serviceable looking speeder and vaulted inside. Bastila was close behind him. Even before she was fastened in with her safety belt, Dustil had the speeder running. He fired up the repulsor coils and grasped the steering yoke then steered it through the hangar and out.

Even as they joined the Coruscant traffic and zipped away, Bastila's heart pounded loudly in her ears and her breathing came shallow and raggedly. She sunk back into the cloned leather seat and tried to make sense of all of her thoughts and memories from the attack. "Force," she cursed out loud with sudden realization at the decision she had made, "We just left all those younglings there to die." Guilt, almost heavier than she could bear, overcame her.

"What were we supposed to do?" Dustil shot back, on the edge of his nerves but not angry, "Die there with them? At least someone got out to tell the tale and continue the Jedi Order. We would have died if we hadn't run."

"I can only hope that others made it out as well," Bastila mumbled, numb with shock. "Do you have a plan now?" she asked, feeling helpless.

"I'm taking us to the Navy headquarters. "If I throw Dad's name around, we should be able to get asylum there, and they need to know what has happened."

"If only we even knew ourselves what happened," Bastila replied, "Dark Side assassins attacked out of nowhere and killed all the Jedi Apprentices on Coruscant. Force! They must have known that all of the other Jedi were going to be away leaving the children practically defenseless. They must have known of the meeting on Katarr. Then the other Jedi..."

"We felt them die," Dustil realized out loud, "All of that pain, the wound in the Force, that was all of the Jedi dying on Katarr."

"It was more than that," Bastila said, trying to recall the feeling she had immediately after being ripped out of their meditations. "More than just Jedi died. Thousands, if not millions, died. It felt like Taris, only worse, only all at once."

"Force," Dustil cursed quietly, "We have to get to the Republic Military. Someone has to go and find out what happened on Katarr."

Bastila pressed her lips together and nodded gravely. _What now? What can we possibly do now?_ She felt close to tears with despair.

Visas Marr groped wildly with her hands then stumbled and fell, tangled in her long skirts. The obstacle she tripped on felt sickeningly like the body of another person as she struggled to stand again. Even as she found solid ground, her legs wavered and her knees gave out beneath her. She fell to her knees with a weak cry.

All around her was death and pain—unimaginable pain. She wanted to scream just to be rid of it, but she had already screamed herself hoarse. Katarr was dead. The Force had utterly abandoned it, leaving her as blind as any other sentient cursed to be without eyes. Desperate tears wet her cheeks. _Why?_

The pain of it all overwhelmed her. She felt so weak. Shaking and hugging her knees, Visas curled up on the ground and let it take hold of her. She let herself slip into blissfully painless oblivion.

Visas awoke again to darkness. Her sight did not return, no matter how much she strained her mind. Her head throbbed and every part of her, right down to the soul within her ached with what had happened. Katarr remained as silent as the grave.

And then she saw him. Where there was nothing else to see, a man approached her with long, sure strides. Swathed in robes and armor of black, a white and red mask obscured his face. Her spirit leaped out to him as he came, as if they were connected, as if he held a part of her spirit inside of him. The Force radiated from his being more loudly than anyone or anything she had ever encountered. It was more than a full planet's signature in the Force. He blazed brilliantly in her inner sight.

He stopped, standing over her. He stared down through black pits of eyes at her, a puzzle to him. Reaching out a hand to her, he spoke in a language Visas had never heard before, but he forced the meanings of his words into her head. "_You live,"_ he observed.

"Who are you?" Visas wheezed.

"I am Nihilus," he replied, "_And you are mine."_

"I..." she stammered, but had no words. She was weak, abandoned on a dead world. She took his gloved hand, and he pulled her roughly to her feet. He forced her to walk and she stumbled sightlessly with every step. She wished only to lie down and die, but the powerful being that tugged her along seemed to have other plans. Visas had no choice.

Atris waited for two or three days in hiding before venturing to Katarr. It had been worse than she feared. Atris could spend no more than a few exploratory minutes on the surface before fleeing the planet back into space. She had never felt a place so empty before. All life was gone. The Force was gone. She shivered at the thought of it.

In the cockpit of her small, borrowed Jedi fighter, she tried to contact the Jedi Temple on Coruscant again, but got no response. She began to fear the worst for the Jedi children who had been left there as well.

But, despite all the death, her ploy had worked. The leaked information she planted everywhere she could, telling exactly where and when the Jedi Conclave would take place, drew their enemies like a moth to a flame. Now she knew more about this enemy than she had ever hoped to before. It fed on the Force and on all life. Like the assassins that both Bastila and Thon had met, it sucked the Force away from other living beings. Their enemy was far more powerful than they had suspected, but now armed with that knowledge, she could face it.

And she might be the last remaining Jedi.

The thought chilled Atris but it did not frighten her. She would have to rebuild the order herself. First she would need to return to Coruscant to take the supplies and knowledge she would need, and then she would find a quiet place, far from where the enemy of the Jedi would be looking for her, rebuilding and waiting for the moment to strike it down. Patience and time would give her an opportunity.

Had the risk she took been worth it? Had the losses been worth the knowledge they brought?

She could not say. What was done was done, and now she had to move forward with her plans.


	28. Chapter 28

Part 28- Hiding

"Dustil, Bastila, what is it?" Carth asked with bleary urgency over the comm. The small blue holo of him from the waist up showed him wearing only a hurriedly wrapped robe. "HQ said it was urgent."

"Carth, the Jedi have been attacked," Bastila replied then waited for that cold fact to register with him. He looked as if he was still half asleep.

"Attacked, what do you mean?" he asked, growing in concern.

"Pretty much all the Jedi in the entire order went to Katarr to have a secret conclave," Dustil explained, "But somehow, our enemies found out about it. We don't know for sure until someone goes to check it out, but we think they're all dead now."

"Our enemies coordinated their attacks and stormed the Jedi Temple with Force-sensitive assassins. We barely escaped ourselves," Bastila continued, and paused, unwilling to speak the terrible truth. "We fear that they killed all of the other apprentices. I doubt any of the others had the skill to get out alive."

"Kriff," Carth cursed, "That's terrible. How could someone do that?"

"Someone has a grudge against the Jedi Order," Dustil replied darkly, "A powerful one."

"What will you do now?" Carth asked, looking more awake than he had moments before.

"Your friends at the Navy Headquarters are keeping us safe here until we can figure something else out," Dustil answered.

"We might be the last Jedi left," Bastila added, "We have no idea if any others managed to escape notice of our enemies."

"You can't go after these enemies yourselves," Carth said quickly, "If whatever it is can destroy the whole Jedi Order in a day, you can't face it just the two of you."

"It crossed my mind, Carth," Bastila answered, "But you're right, we can't. We still don't know where to look or what we face, only that it is dangerous."

"Maybe if it thinks that you are dead along with the others, it will leave you alone," Carth suggested, "You could come to Telos and hide here."

"No," Bastila replied quickly, "We couldn't do that, Carth. If it did find us there, it would put your whole project in jeopardy."

"And even if we run, it might be able to find us in the Force," Dustil added.

"Aren't there any places you can go that will hide from even that?" Carth asked then added quickly, "I'm sorry, I just want to see both of you safe."

Bastila thought for a moment, and then nodded slowly. "Where there is sufficient Dark Side power or a wound in the Force, we would be difficult to sense."

"Please not Korriban," Dustil said immediately.

"Wounds in the Force?" Carth asked. "What's that?"

"Places where lots of death and terror left its mark on the Force," Bastila answered. "Many of the more terrible battlefields of the last wars have left wounds behind them."

"Like Taris or Duxn?" Carth offered.

Bastila nodded. "But we dare not go to those places. I would not go near Onderon again, after..." Bastila started, but could not finish her sentence.

"How about Eshan?" Carth asked.

"Eshan?" Dustil asked.

"Home world to the Echani," Bastila answered him, "They were attacked by the Mandalorians and fought brilliantly against them, but were slaughtered in the end. Yes, Eshan would give us the shadow of death to hide in. Why do you mention it, Carth?"

"I have some contacts there," he answered, "Republic Military often uses Echani combat trainers for hand-to-hand fighting instruction. I know of a training academy that accepts off-worlders in for training."

"If we enrolled, then we could continue my training," Dustil suggested, liking the idea already.

Bastila nodded. "Thank you Carth," she said earnestly, "This may be our best option, at least for now. At least until we know more or if other Jedi have survived."

"You two stay where you are at HQ," Carth ordered, "I'll work out my contacts on Eshan and I will come to get you on Coruscant myself as soon as I can get away from here."

"Thank you Carth," Bastila said again.

"Thanks Dad," Dustil said, sounding relieved.

"I'm so glad you're both alright," Carth said with a ragged sigh.

"We won't keep you up any longer," Bastila said politely.

"Yeah," Dustil agreed, "See you soon."

"See you soon," Carth echoed, "Until then, please be safe."

The connection between them shut and Dustil sank back into his chair with another heavy sigh. "I wish we didn't have to run from this," he moaned, "We're Jedi... but if we tried to face whatever it is now, it would kill us."

"I wish we could do something," Bastila agreed, "Besides hide and hope for the best. I feel like we are abandoning the galaxy."

"And maybe we are," Dustil replied, voice ripe with pain and bitterness. "And maybe that's what's best anyway."


	29. Chapter 29

Part 29- Abandoning All for Silence

The Jedi Master Lonna Vash had no more idea the true cause of the shock she felt through the Force two weeks ago than anyone else. Its timing in relation to the Jedi Conclave on Katarr, which neither she or her padawan could attend because of their duties to the Republic Fleet in the Quelii system, seemed too much to be coincidental. There were no coincidences in the Force. Word from the Jedi about the findings of the conclave never came. Her hails to the members of the Jedi Council went unanswered. Then she began to hear rumors about Katarr, terrible rumors that all life on the planet had been destroyed, down to the very last Miraluka. Though she held it in from her padawan, that knowledge cut her deeply. It devastated her. She could not believe that the Jedi Order could fall so easily, so spectacularly.

Lonna contacted the Jedi Temple on Coruscant as soon as she heard those rumors, hoping for some clarity to the news, but got no response there either. Surely the younglings and the Jedi who had been left behind to care for them were still alive, and simply not paying attention to the communications center.

Lonna's optimism faded as she landed her speeder in the Jedi Temple's western hangar. The Jedi Temple felt like a lifeless, empty shell. Even as she and her padawan Kaah Ohtok exited their speeder and lingered in the hangar, no one came to greet them.

"Where is everyone, Master?" Kaah asked, his orange lekku swaying apprehensively.

"I don't know, Kaah," she answered, shaking her head. She closed her eyes and stretched out her senses in the Force. There, in the center of the temple was the taint of pain and death. This just confirmed her worst fears. With a sigh, she opened her eyes, asking her padawan, "What do you sense here, Kaah?"

"Nothing," he replied, "Nothing like it usually feels. It's strange."

"Probe deeper," Lonna encouraged, wishing him to reach the same conclusion himself.

"And there's..." he searched for the right word, "pain, I think." Kaah paused with a sudden realization, "They're all dead." He looked stricken.

"I fear that as well," Lonna replied, "And any that survived are not here anymore. We must be cautious, Kaah, as we explore the Temple. We need to find out what truly happened here, but be wary of any enemies that may be lurking here."

"Enemies? Within the Jedi Temple?" Kaah seemed aghast at the idea.

"More possible than any of us would have liked to think," Lonna replied with a sorrowful shake of her head, "Something killed these Jedi right here in this temple. The killers may still remain, hiding in the shadows of their deaths."

Kaah nodded gravely and unclipped his lightsaber from his hilt, grasping it readily in his hand. "Let's go then," he said.

"Let us go to the source of that feeling of pain you sensed and see what we can find there," she suggested, then warned, "What you see may not be easy for you to bear."

"I have seen dead bodies before," Kaah replied defensively, "In the war."

"But have you seen dead children or dead friends?" Lonna asked warningly. Kaah was still young and proud; proud to be chosen as a padawan at the young age of eleven when so many others were left without masters. That was two years ago, but he still remained convinced of his own superiority, no matter how much Lonna tried to iron it out of him.

The long halls of the temple remained as empty and lifeless as the hangar bay in which they landed. Lonna followed her senses at each turn, drawing closer to the center of darkness in the temple. It was not a darkness she feared, but she did not long to see it either. Kaah kept his thoughts to himself, though apprehension and eagerness rolled off of him in waves, crests and troughs. He wanted desperately to know what had happened, and yet feared the past as well.

Nothing moved in the temple but the shifting light and the wafting dust in their wake.

"Here," Lonna said as they approached the large meeting hall from across a wide corridor. She knew that if they were to find anything still in the temple, it would be here. The feeling she followed in the Force grew stronger, accompanied by a sour, unpleasant smell. At that, she instantly knew to expect the worse.

"What's that smell?" Kaah exclaimed, pinching his nose shut.

Lonna raised her wide left sleeve to her face and cupped the cloth around her nose and mouth. "I fear it is the smell of death," she replied, muffled by the fabric.

Kaah drew back with a sudden realization, stopping in his tracks. He quickly put his own sleeve to his face and stepped quickly to catch up with his master.

Taking as deep a breath as she dared, Lonna rounded the bend and entered the hall. The sight that greeted her caused even her to stop mid-step. There were dead everywhere. Some dismembered, some halved, some whole but caked with rivers of dried blood. Nearly all were Jedi. Yet, the Force had totally abandoned them. She had never encountered bodies, even as long dead as these, that felt so entirely cut off from the Force. It was as the Jedi Council said, these enemies drained the living Force right out of you.

Lonna spotted two dark-clad bodies on the floor not far from here. Gingerly, she approached, her curiosity demanding that she investigate. _Just what kind of sentient would murder defenseless children? Destroy the entire future of the Jedi Order?_ She suddenly realized that there may still be attackers lurking around the time. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she ordered, "Stay close, Kaah."

He nodded at her, looking stiff and stricken. Kaah was only able to take two steps into the room before he turned and retched against the wall. It was all too much for him.

Lonna knelt down next to one of the mangled bodies of the attackers and pulled back his gray mask with her free hand. Underneath the duraplast was the face of a man. He looked so much like any other man that it repulsed her. She quickly placed the mask back over his face, stood up, and backed away a few paces.

"They're all dead," Kaah mewed weekly from behind his sleeve. He seemed to be doing his best not to look at any of it.

"It falls to us to make sure the truth of that statement," Lonna said, "We must identify all of the younglings here. If any are missing, then there is a chance that some are still alive somewhere."

Kaah nodded, not looking at her or any of the bodies.

Just then, a feeling pricked at Lonna's senses. Someone was coming. "Kaah, get behind me," she ordered with quiet urgency.

"What?" he asked listlessly.

"Get behind me," she repeated more forcefully, "Now." She moved to cover her padawan while he stepped into the shadows of her robes.

The sound of a single set of footsteps echoing down empty corridors now accompanied the feeling of someone drawing closer. Lonna reached out, probing the approaching mind for intentions, but the thoughts were too well guarded. She braced herself, unlit lightsaber ready in her right hand.

Finally, deliberately, a figure stepped into the doorway. At the sight of the familiar brown robes, blond hair, and chiseled features, Lonna immediately relaxed. "Master Kavar," she breathed.

"Lonna Vash," Kavar observed, looking relieved himself, "And your padawan as well. I am relieved to see you survived the tragedies of late."

"And you, Master Kavar," Lonna stepped towards him. "We thought we were the only ones back in the Temple."

"I only just returned myself, yesterday," Kavar answered, "Long enough to know that there is nothing to be found here but the faces of the children we failed."

Lonna bowed her head mournfully.

Kaah could not find his voice, even in the comforting presence of another Jedi Master. He teetered unsteadily over towards them as well, presenting Master Kavar with an uneven bow.

"Let us get away from here," he urged, "There is much to discuss."

"Lead on, Kavar," Lonna agreed. She reached out her arm and steadied Kaah around the shoulders. He immediately leaned into her as they began to walk.

Master Kavar took them to the Jedi Archive where the gentle glow of consoles gave some comfort.

"Interestingly, there are a number of things missing from the archives," he assessed, "And even many of our most precious holocrons from the vault. I cannot explain it myself, where they have all gone."

"Scavengers, most likely," Lonna suggested, "Looking to sell our unprotected treasures to the highest bidder."

"But only members of the Jedi Council can enter the holocron vault," Kavar pointed out, "And the entrance shows no signs of struggle or tampering."

"Then perhaps we are not the first to return home," Lonna suggested.

"As it seems, we were not," Kavar nodded in agreement. "But, whatever course we take from this point, we must make protecting the Jedi's history and knowledge a priority."

"How many others do you think may have survived this?" Lonna asked. As a member of the Jedi council, she hoped he would be privy to more useful information that she herself had. Her tenure on the council was years ago.

"If all the Jedi who went to Katarr and all the younglings who remained here are dead," Kavar began, "Then very few, I am afraid. We called back nearly all of the Jedi from the field when this threat became gravely dangerous to us. You and Kaah were among the very few in important enough positions that you could not be recalled."

"How many others were there?" Lonna repeated. This was not a time for beating around the bush.

"Other than yourselves and me," Kavar took a long breath before he finished, "Master Zez-Kai Ell was called to advise the Chancellor at the last minute at a meeting on Corellia. Master Vima Sunrider was investigating the disappearance of agricorps. Master Vrook was last heard from at the Perkkik Mining Station in the outer rim. Kaden Thuvell was last stationed on Sigil, which was in a delicate post-war position, politically, so he could not be spared. Oss Willum and his padawan were to be on their way back in time for the Conclave on Katarr, but either they were delayed or they too fell to the assassins somewhere on the outer rim."

Lonna waited for another, but that was the end of Kavar's list.

"Is that all?" Kaah blurted. Until then he had sat by and listened in shocked silence.

"There are other Jedi that we lost contact with during this purge," Kavar added, "They could be still alive and simply out of contact, but I dare not put too much hope on that."

"Then the Jedi Order is reduced to no more than ten Jedi, at best," Lonna assessed quietly, "I had no idea it was that bad."

"We're as good as dead," Kaah moaned.

"Don't say that, Kaah," Lonna admonished sharply, "There is hope for the Order as long as we still live, and live we will. More is at stake than our lives now. Remember that."

"Yes master," Kaah acquiesced and bowed his head, ashamed.

"There may yet be other Jedi we have forgotten about," Lonna pointed out, "Deserters we lost during the wars who are simply in hiding. We should put out a call for them."

"No, that would be too dangerous for them while our enemy is still at large," Kavar countered, "And I doubt little would motivate any deserters to rejoin a Jedi order under attack as we are."

"Then what do you suggest now?" Lonna asked.

"I feel that we must discern our assets and work from there. The more we know, the better we can plan," Kavar replied.

Lonna nodded, "I agree. We must try to contact any Jedi who might still be alive. We should also take stock of the dead. Perhaps some may have escaped or survived."

"What about the security feeds?" Kaah asked. "Maybe they can tell us something about what happened here." Suddenly growing shier with both masters' eyes on him, he added hesitantly, "You did say the more we know about what happened, the better."

"Yes, you are right," Kavar nodded, "Very good idea, Kaah Ohtok. We will leave that to you. Go to the communications tower and look over the security feeds and any communications that went in or out of the temple immediately before, during, and since the attack."

"Right," Kaah nodded, "I'll do it."

"Lonna, you should go with him and see if you can contact the other Jedi. I will give you access to the top-level files that give a report of all Jedi's last known positions," Kavar said and pulled a small code cylinder off his belt and placed it on the table before her. With a meaningful glance at Kaah, he continued, "I think it would best if it went to me to look over the dead. If you can contact any of the other Jedi, schedule a council meeting for the earliest possible time. This evening, if we can. All the remaining Jedi are on the Jedi Council now, and that includes you Lonna."

She nodded gravely. No need to defer to Kavar any more then. She took the code cylinder and stowed it in her belt pouch. "Then we will go to the communications tower," she said, standing up, "When our work is finished, we will return here and wait for you. Come Kaah."

Kavar rose slowly. Lonna could sense that it was not from the stiffness of age but the heavy burden of a survivor in these dark times. "I will see you back here when it is finished," Kavar nodded to her.

The High Council Chamber was emptier than Lonna could ever remember it being, even in the heat of the Mandalorian Wars when Jedi Masters were sent far and wide to discern the true weight of the conflict. She and Kavar each took a chair in the circle. Kaah seated himself awkwardly in one of the seats nearest to the door. He was not part of the temporary council, but it was important that he be present and hear all that was discussed. He may even have insight that others did not. In such a situation, Lonna would never dream of shutting her young padawan out of the meeting.

Fuzzy projections of Vrook Lamar, Vima Sunrider, and Zez-Kai Ell hovered in their seats. It was a council of five.

"We could not reach any of the Jedi that we hoped survived, though there still may be others out there," Lonna reported.

Vima sighed and shook her head, "I would have thought Kaden Thuvell more resilient than that. His position with the PLANET government would have made him a very public and obvious target, however."

"Many great Jedi have already fallen. He is another among their number," Zez-Kai Ell replied darkly.

"There is the mystery of Bastila Shan and her padawan," Kavar put in, "Their bodies were not found among the dead here, and scattered security feeds show them fleeing together. Although we cannot know for certain because the security feeds from the hangar are corrupted, one of our domestic speeders is missing. They could have fled successfully on that," Kavar explained, "But we do not know where they went to contact them."

"That is good news in the midst of all this death," Vima said.

"The security feeds were corrupted?" Zez-Kai Ell asked, "How is that possible?"

Lonna glanced at Kaah and nodded, prompting him to speak.

"It looks like a day or so after the attack, someone came in and hacked our systems," he explained, "They corrupted a number of the security feeds so that we lost all previous data and they are not taking any new data. Other than the hangar bays, we lost the whole archives are and several main corridors."

"I should note that we are missing a number of important documents, including holocrons, from the archive and the vault," Kavar added.

"A thief and a slicer," Vrook rumbled, "we must protect the legacy of the Jedi."

"I agree," Kavar nodded, "Lonna, Kaah, and I were discussing that before this meeting. Kaah is skilled enough with computers that he can lock down the temple so that only recognized Jedi in our database can enter. There are always ways to slice past such defenses, both technological and physical, but it will deter casual thefts."

"Then please do whatever you can, Padawan Kaah," Vrook encouraged.

"I will," he promised, nodding so vigorously that his orange lekku wagged like two ANIMAL tails on the back of his head.

"Which brings us to the real questions posed to this council: what really happened two weeks ago when we all felt that shock through the Force," Kavar said, "And what should we do now?"

"The military reports I have seen confirm it," Zez-Kai Ell said, "Katarr was devastated. Nothing is left alive there, though there are no signs of struggle."

"Just like Felucia and the Perkkik Station," Vrook commented. "But there was a wound left in the Force from their deaths. The Force was utterly gone."

"The children here suffered the same fate, though most of them were killed by conventional means," Lonna added.

"Our enemies have powers we have never seen before," Vrook said, "They drain the very Force from us. I am sure they drained every last drop of the Force from Katarr."

"Where Jedi gather, the enemy strikes," Vima observed quietly, "Katarr, the Jedi temple, agricorps, Dorin, I am sure there are others."

"One thing is very clear to me now," Vrook began after a moment of thoughtfulness, "We cannot gather again. Even though there are few of us left, we would ring out like a beacon in the Force to our enemies. Where we gather, we are risk to all other life. It is our duty to protect all life in the galaxy, not endanger it."

"I fear you may be right, Vrook," Zez-Kai Ell acknowledged, "Gathering together again is too great a risk, after what has happened."

"Although we know more about our enemies than ever before, we still do not know enough to face them directly, especially weakened as we are," Vrook pointed out, "I suggest we retreat into hiding. If we let them believe that we are all dead and that they have won, perhaps it will lull them into a false sense of security in their victory and they will step out of the shadows. Only then can we face them, our strength renewed."

"I hate to concede victory to an enemy that would punish an entire planet for the gathering of Jedi on it," Vima said cautiously, "But I think you are right, Master Vrook. Our silence may be the best way to draw them out. Only when they have revealed themselves can we gather again bring the battle to them."

"We should choose our hiding places carefully, places where an abundance of life or an old wound in the Force will mask our presences," Kavar suggested.

"But we should leave Coruscant behind at all costs," Lonna added suddenly, "If a gathering of Jedi can lead to the destruction of a remote Miraluka colony, think what would happen of our presence here tempts our attackers enough to destroy Coruscant. The fall of the Republic should not be on our hands."

"You are right," Kavar nodded.

"I will return to Dantooine," Vrook volunteered, "There is much there to protect and rebuild, and much darkness to hide in after the attacks on our enclave."

"I will go to Ossus," Vima said, "The attacks of the Great Sith War still leave their scars there, and I am sure there is still plenty to be learned in the ruins of our ancient great library."

"I will head to Nar Shadaa," Zez-Kai Ell decided, "It is not far from here and it is the last place anyone would look for a Jedi in hiding. Perhaps in a seedy place like that, I can learn something of our enemies' motives."

"I will go to Onderon, where some of the earliest attacks of this kind occurred," Kavar offered, "Maybe there is something to learn of our enemy even there."

"I do not want to give up hope on the other Jedi who may still be out there, out of the range of our contacts," Lonna said, "I will search the galaxy for any sign of them. Oss Willum, Bastila Shan, Deesra Lur Jada, Kaden Thuvell, even his sister, and others may still be out there."

"Kaden's sister, the exile?" Vrook asked, "Even if she is still out there, why do you think she would help us?"

"She always had a good heart and pure intentions, no matter what terrible actions her beliefs let her to take," Lonna replied.

"She has been away for so long," Kavar said wistfully, "You are right, she may yet be alive. I hope you find her, and the others, Lonna."

"Before we leave this place, we must leave messages for any other Jedi who might try to return or try to contact us," Lonna suggested.

"You and your padawan should see to that," Vrook suggested, "When you lock down the temple. Suggest that they too should go into hiding until the time is right for us to face our adversaries in an open fight."

The thought of inaction, of giving up even if it was only for the time being, in the face of grave danger to the galaxy stirred conflicting feelings within Lonna. She hated to disappear just when each Jedi was needed most, and yet, Vrook's suggestion really did seem like the only option.

"But until then, let the galaxy think that the Jedi are dead and gone," Kavar concluded heavily.


	30. Chapter 30

Part 30- History of the Dead

"You really ought to come down here more often, Kionee, and not just on business," Leiraya said scoldingly, but the smile on her face was warm and welcoming.

"We hardly get visitors," Kylan added, "Hardly anyone besides the Ithorians and the tech teams have clearance to come down to the surface, especially for a casual visit. With the farm in such delicate state now, we can't leave here for long ourselves either."

"I promise, I'll be back every time I get a weekend," Kionee replied beaming, her arms filled with a brimming basket of all the fruits the Sheffield-Moran farm produced. In the year since this small section of Telos had been 'restored' Kylan and Leiraya were given almost complete autonomy over it for their experimental fruit farm. Granted, an Ithorian from the supervising herd came down to check on them twice a month or so, but that was more to make sure the environmental containment was working and the ecosystem was working like it was supposed to. So far, so good.

The twenty acre plot of land was enclosed in flickering environmental containment fields that stretched up to the sky—transparent red walls that kept the good environment in and the bad environment out. It was eerie, this little patch of life struggling to grow and be fruitful, wrapped in technology, surrounded by atomic wasteland nearly as far as the eye could see. Huge generator towers at each corner of the orchard plot stretched towards the sky like giant spires.

Leiraya and Kylan's house was a small pre-fabricated structure, boxy and rectangular. If it looked like a miniature version of one of Citadel Station's space modules, it was because it actually was. The same technology was used to keep them safe, in the event of a breech in the shields. It could be sealed off against the hostile environment as easily as it could be sealed off against the vacuum of space.

In their boxy home, under the unnerving red glow of the environmental shields, Kylan and Leiraya were happy even still. Like Kionee, they were thrilled to be a part of Telos's rebirth in their own way. Already they had proved that agriculture, especially organic, was successful on Telos. Their orchard sported healthy adult trees that had already begun producing fruit months ago, after they had settled from the trauma of replanting. Tiny saplings grew with only the usual struggles. Bushes and vines of several varieties were already producing berries with merry abundance.

"Send our love to Laylien and all the others up station-side," Leiraya said. "And let that Bao-Dur know that that connector hasn't sparked at all since he came and replaced it. He found the problem this time that that other tech had missed."

"That is Bao-Dur for you," Kylan said, "I would count on him for wiring this whole planet and getting it right the first time."

"Will do," Kionee nodded over her bushel. Few people used wicker baskets for anything but expensive decoration these days, but Leiraya seemed to have taken to basket weaving while on the surface of Telos. Kionee suspect that her baskets could be sold for a fortune in the core, but Leiraya chose to use them for more practical purposes, like carrying fruit. Kionee's basket, however, was beginning to feel heavier and heavier the longer she lingered in front of her ship, saying her goodbyes. "Well, I should probably get this into the hold," she said, trying not to sound impatient to go. "It is nice to be hauling fruit again instead of critters or jungle monsters. Familiar territory."

Leiraya laughed, "No, we won't hold you any longer. Go enjoy your weekend. And remind Mrogo Habot to deposit our earnings from this crop into our account Station-side this time. There is absolutely no reason for them to deliver cash to us down here. There's no need for it on the surface."

"Right, I'll do that," Kionee replied, making a mental note to the already lengthy list of people she needed to track down for Leiraya and Kylan.

"Enjoy the fruits of our labor, and yours," Leiraya said with a final smile.

"Take care guys," Kionee said, waving her fingers on the front of the basket. It was the best she could do with her arms full. "Let me know whenever you've got another crop to bring up."

"Just assume we want you down here every weekend you've got off, and we'll make a schedule of it," Kylan replied.

"I can handle that," Kionee grinned, "I'll see you next weekend then."

"Take care," Leiraya said.

"May the Force be with you," Kylan added. Kylan still always talked like a Jedi. Though, he and Leiraya made it very clear in the previous months that Kionee was not to mention that the two of them had ever been Jedi, even if they belonged to the Corellian order. With the central Jedi Order completely wiped out, it was a dangerous time for anyone with Jedi powers, and Kylan and Leiraya were no exception. Kionee promised to do her part to keep their secret.

"You too," Kionee replied. She turned and boarded her ship. At the top, she deposited the wicker bushel into the only one of her fruit refrigeration units that had not been converted to live storage. She snagged a handful of mooja berries before closing the door on her load. Shoveling them into her mouth unceremoniously, she savored the sweet-bitter flavor and juicy texture. Organic always tasted better. Far better.

The _Viridian_ glided into docking bay 126-B6. Kionee really did love having her own personal docking bay at the station. It made her feel permanent. Beyond her own apartment, it made her feel like this was her home and that this was her career. She had had a career for some fifteen years already, but somehow this private docking bay, just for her because she did a job that was vital to the Telos Restoration Project, tickled her pride and sense of purpose.

"And what will it be now, Mistress Kionee?" Emtee asked of her.

"I was going to have a relaxing evening and girl time with Laylien," Kionee replied, "We're going to make cookie dough and eat it raw while watching our favorite Exter Mackler holo drama."

"Mr. Mackler. I see," Emtee nodded his mechanical head stiffly. Whenever he attempted human gestures, it always came out looking awkward. "I do not see how one man on the holos can generate so much attention. I do not find his acting particularly outstanding."

"It's not about the acting, Emtee," Kionee replied, rolling her eyes and knowing she could never win this argument with a droid, "It's about his excellent facial features, dreamy eyes, nice haircut, and deep voice."

"Well, I hope you and Laylien enjoy yourselves," Emtee replied, clearly still unimpressed, "And do not get sick from raw dough. You would be better off cooking it anyway."

"There are some things that call for raw cookie dough, and girls' nights with Exter Mackler vids is one of them," Kionee said with a laugh and stood up. "You'll take care of the cargo, then?"

"As always, Mistress Kionee," Emtee replied, "Enjoy your evening."

"I will," Kionee grinned from ear to ear and headed out of the cockpit. She collected the gift basket of fruit from the Sheffield-Moran farm and descended the loading ramp out of the _Viridian._ She would store all of that in her refrigeration unit back home in her own apartment for snacking during the weekend. Fresh produce was hard to come by on the station, though that was getting easier thanks to Leiraya and Kylan, and Kionee fully intended to take advantage of her current bounty before any of it went bad.

With those pleasant thoughts in mind, she headed for the hangar exit, humming a song she couldn't remember the words to. Suddenly, she realized she was not alone in the hangar. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood waiting for her in the exit.

"Good evening," Mical greeted her with a pleasant smile.

"Oh hi, Mical," Kionee replied quickly, trying to keep the startled blush from her face. She had not expected to see him here at all, but his appearance was far from a bad thing. She suddenly wished that she had not been humming that silly tune, whatever it was, or skipping along to her own music in front of him. She was thirty years old, after all. "So how are you?" she asked, shifting the basket of fruit in her arms to a less awkward posture.

"I am doing quite well, thank you," Mical answered politely, "And yourself? You are just returned from the surface?"

"Oh, I'm doing great," Kionee responded, "I was just down visiting the Sheffields' experimental fruit farm down on the surface."

"Their experiment seems to be succeeding, I see," Mical observed pleasantly with a nod to the wicker basket in her arms.

"Oh, you can have a piece or two if you'd like," Kionee offered rapidly as the thought occurred to her. She hoped she had not come across as rude for not offering sooner. "This all was a gift from them. They're both old friends of mine—and this is all way more than I can eat on my own before it all goes bad. And you know that Emtee isn't going to be much help on that front."

"No, I suppose not," Mical chuckled. He reached in and took two pieces of fruit; a mrenji and a meilooroon. Transferring them both to one hand, he said, "Thank you."

"So, what can I do for you?" Kionee asked, feeling awkward at the shift in conversation.

"I hate to ask you to go out of your way," Mical prefaced, "But I am looking for a ride to Ossus for my research on the Jedi."

"Ossus?" Kionee asked. Now that was some place she had never been before, and that was saying something.

"I will pay for your services, as always," Mical added swiftly.

Kionee thought for a moment, trying to recall just what and where Ossus was. An old Jedi world. Her old history lessons with MT-412 were coming back to her. It was not too far off the Corellian Trade Spine, if she remembered correctly. That being true, it would be about a fourteen hour journey, give or take. She could make the run this weekend and be back in time for her next trip to Onderon.

There was her date with Laylien, though.

"If it is too much trouble for you, please don't worry about it," Mical amended, "I am sure I can find another pilot able to take me."

"Oh, no, no," Kionee replied quickly. She and Laylien could have their girls' night some other time. If she refused Mical now, he might not come back asking for a ride again. "I can take you. No problem. I've got the next two days off before I have to head back to Onderon again, and we should be able to get to Ossus and back by then, no problem at all. I just have to get Leiraya and Kylan's fruit unloaded and into the right hands before I head out."

"Thank you, I really appreciate it," Mical replied with a smile, "And please, take your time. I am not in a hurry."

"It's alright," Kionee replied earnestly. "Give me two standard hours, and I'll meet you back here, ready to go."

"I will see you then," Mical said, and turned to go. She could not guess where he was headed. He already had his traveling satchel strung over his shoulders.

Kionee herself ducked back into the ship and pressed the comm button at the top of the loading ramp. "Emtee, we're going to take a passenger to Ossus in approximately two hours," she called, "Can you get everything off-loaded and the ship refueled by then?"

"Is this that Republic scholar again?" MT-412 asked.

"Yes," Kionee replied, "So be on your best behavior. I'll be back in two hours once I've got everything else straightened out."

"As if I would not be," Emtee shot back indignantly, but Kionee was already on her way off the ship again.

She fished her comlink out of her pocked and dialed Laylien's office. Her friend picked up immediately, "Hello?"

"Hey Laylien, it's Kionee," she said.

"Oh hi Kionee," she replied, "What's going on?"

"I know I sound like a terrible friend, but can we reschedule our girls' night?" she asked, pleading.

"Something has come up?" Laylien asked, sounding concerned.

"Well," Kionee started slowly, suddenly embarrassed, "I've got a passenger run again. Mical just showed up at my hangar and asked for a lift this weekend."

"Oh, _him_," Laylien cooed deviously, "I understand. And you'll have to tell me all the juicy details of your trip together when you get back."

"Laylien!" Kionee exclaimed indignantly, "It's not like him and me are..."

"Well, have fun and fly safely," Laylien interrupted her. "I expect to see you when you get back, understand?"

Kionee laughed, "Sure. Of course. See you then."

Like the trips to and from Onderon, Mical deigned to sit in one of the passenger seats in the cockpit behind the pilots' chairs as the _Viridian_ took off from Citadel Station.

"The improvements of Telos already are remarkable," Mical observed appreciatively. From orbit, the long red lines of the shield barriers punctuated by silvery gray towers cut across the surface in irregular grids. The most promising climate zones around the planet's middle half were criss-crossed with the most shields. Even sections of the ocean had begun to be shielded off by the environmental shields for delicate detoxification. Between the shielded zones, the earth was beginning to regain tints of green amid the barren red. It was more than many had even dared to hope for.

"Proves all those nay-sayers wrong," Kionee replied forcefully, "Telos is recovering."

"They may yet be able to have their smug victory, though," Mical cautioned.

"Why's that?" Kionee asked, her spirits dampened. "It looks like everything is progressing as planned, or even better."

"The budget is still a sore issue with many in the Republic government," Mical explained, "Telos is succeeding, but at what cost? It is already very near exceeding its budget, and, as you see down there, there is much yet to be done. Restoring an entire planet is a monumental task."

"But you believe it can be done?" Kionee asked, implying her own beliefs by the sound of her voice.

"Yes, I do," Mical answered. Kionee saw him nod in the reflection in the front viewport. "But I fear for politics. Politics can kill even the noblest of projects, even Telos."

"I hope politics can stay out of this as long as possible," Kionee said, "Even if it probably is a pretty stupid hope, I hope it all the same."

"I hope so as well," Mical replied, "But even so, there are some great politicians on the side of this project ready to defend every centimeter of it. Jerol Onasi is a very intelligent and persuasive man himself. Telos is in good hands."

Kionee nodded in agreement. She looked down at the screen on her controls and observed that they were safely away from Telos IV's gravity shadow. "So Ossus, you said?" Kionee asked to make sure.

"Yes, Ossus," Mical replied with an affirmative nod.

"You got those coordinates all punched out, Emtee?" Kionee asked her droid.

"Yes, we will have to make a few adjustment jumps through this part of the arm, but it is a clear path," Emtee replied from the co-pilot's chair. "The _Viridian_ is ready for hyperspace when you are."

"Let's go," Kionee urged. MT-412 drew back the activation lever for the hyperdrive and the _Viridian_ lunged forward, gaining speed rapidly until the stars drew out long white-ish blue lines around them.

"We should arrive at Ossus in thirteen hours and forty-two minutes," Emtee announced crisply.

"Thank you," Mical said, although it was unclear whether he was thanking the droid or the pilot.

"Well," Kionee started, unstrapping, "We've got some time on our hands now. Are you hungry? I've got some of that fruit from the surface back in the hold if you want some."

"That would be lovely," Mical replied. He met her eyes and smiled. Kionee quickly averted her eyes and repressed a blush. As they both stood up in the cockpit, its close quarters almost felt embarrassingly confining.

"After you, please," Mical said with a small sweeping gesture to the door.

Kionee shuffled through, again trying not to blush and half-jogged down the stairs into the cargo hold. Mical followed after her. She reached the aft-most cooler and opened it up. On Citadel Station, Kionee had selected about half of her produce to bring along on the trip and froze the rest back in her apartment in the station for later. Still, there was a great variety. She pulled out the plasteel storage crate—she couldn't bear to use such a beautiful basket for just hauling produce—and opened the lid. "Take whatever you like. You're welcome to this as long as you're on board."

"Thank you," Mical said and gingerly took a prisht that was on the top of the crate.

Kionee took another of the prisht and bit into it as well. Its sweet juice dripped down her chin. She briskly wiped it off with the back of her sleeve.

"It has been a long while since I had something as fresh as this," Mical commented. For a moment, he looked almost relaxed, before his mask of formality took over again. "Not rehydrated or frozen."

"Have you been around Telos all this time?" Kionee asked. _I wonder where he lives on Citadel Station, or if he lives there at all._

"Most of it, yes," Mical replied, "Admiral Onasi has been a most generous patron and supporter of my research, misdirected as it often is." He paused then asked, "What is the surface like? I have never had cause to go down there myself."

"It's kind of weird," Kionee admitted, "Those towers are really strange-looking from the surface. Everything, near the barriers anyway, looks a bit red from them. On one side it's green and starting to grow, and on the other side it's dead and barren. Sometimes it gives me the chills to look at it. Other times, it makes me excited that we've come this far."

Mical nodded. "Telos will never be the same, but it will be alive again," he replied, "We cannot bring back the ecosystem that was lost, though Onderon's replacement ecosystem will eventually replace what was in all living memory. Those towers may remain for hundreds of years yet, and people will start to even think of them as normal."

"You're right," Kionee nodded, "It's kind of scary how fast time moves, and how fast things become a part of history."

Mical smiled. "It is because of things like these that I study history as I do," he explained, "The interweaving present and past make a history that lives, affecting everything that will be in the future."

"I could take you down there sometime," Kionee realized suddenly. "I mean, I could get you clearance to go to the surface of Telos if you want. That is, as long as you're willing to help me with my cargo on a surface drop-off."

"I would love to have an opportunity to visit the surface," Mical replied, brightening up at her sudden offer, "I would not mind helping you with your work at all. It would be a chance for me to see just how the Ithorians are working the restoration."

Kionee twittered inwardly at the success of her invitation. _And Laylien will make sure he has the right clearance for me. No problem._ She repressed an excited grin.

"So, I guess next time you're free, drop me a line and I'll work out my next drop off schedule for you," Kionee assured him.

"If it's no trouble for you," Mical replied.

"None at all," Kionee replied firmly, "Like I said, I like to have company that isn't MT-412 now and then."

"You really are too generous, Kionee," he insisted with a gentle smile.

The sound of her own name set a shiver down her spine. "Do you want another?" she asked awkwardly, pointing to the crate on the floor between them.

"No, I'm fine for now," Mical answered, "Thank you."

A silence fell between them.

"Well, I should probably be getting out of your way," Mical started to excuse himself.

Desperate not to let him drift away for the rest of the voyage, Kionee asked quickly, "Mical, can I ask you something?"

"Yes, you can ask," he turned back to her. His distant tone implied that he might not answer her question, however.

"Well, you seem to know a lot about, well, a lot of things," Kionee stammered quickly, "About the Jedi, in particular. Do you have any idea what's going on with them now? I keep hearing terrible things like, they're all gone, or that they've abandoned the galaxy."

With a sigh, Mical cast around him for a place to sit. An empty crate nearby caught his eye. "May I?" he asked, gesturing to it.

"Yeah, of course," Kionee answered, waiting for his reply.

Mical sat back onto the crate and answered finally, "I wish I knew. It is somewhat of a mystery to all of us. I had thought, or at least hoped, that with the end to war, the violence between the Jedi and the Sith would come to an end."

"You think the Sith killed them all?" Kionee asked, thinking about Bastila, Ev, Juhani, and Jolee.

"I don't know," Mical shook his head. "This quiet war is unlike them. If it can be considered a war. The Jedi did not fight back. They allowed themselves to be swallowed up by this darkness, and thereby abandoning the Republic." He sounded bitter.

"How do you call getting killed off abandoning us?" Kionee asked critically, "Assassination isn't the fault of the victim."

"It is if they ignored the signs, and chose instead to sit and wait complacently," Mical continued with bitter disapproval, "Once again, they chose inaction and suffered for it. Once again, the galaxy will suffer for their inaction, only this time, there is no Revanchist to mobilize them, and now, they are gone. The Republic needs the Jedi more than either the Jedi or the Republic know, and neither did a thing to preserve the Jedi Order."

"You sound like you hate the Jedi," Kionee observed quietly, sinking down onto the lid of the low fruit crate.

"Hate? No I don't hate the Jedi," Mical clarified, "I simply believe that the 'wisdom' that they frequently act with, or refrain from acting at all, is hardly wisdom. They would do better to examine the galaxy around them than spend their days locked away in meditation, grasping at the unseen."

Kionee nodded, not sure if she agreed or disagreed. Mical knew far more about any of this than she did. She stared at the floor, feeling a bit ashamed for arguing with him at all. Who was she, a simple contract freighter pilot, to argue with a historian like him?

As Mical started to get up again, another question occurred to Kionee. Quickly, she braced her hands on her knees and stood. "What about Katarr?" she asked. "Is it true what the HoloNet is saying?"

"That the day the Jedi Order held a conclave there, the entire planet died?" Mical asked.

Kionee nodded.

"No one can say if Katarr's death was the fault of the Jedi directly, but I suspect indirectly it was," Mical answered, "The Jedi have made many enemies in the past decades, and one enemy caught up with them all at once, it seems. Whatever little proof I have, that is my theory."

"Thanks," Kionee replied quietly. There was the bitterness towards the Jedi again. "I was wondering ever since I heard."

He smiled a slightly forced smile. "You can ask me any time," he assured her, "Examining events such as these is a hobby of mine."

As much as Kionee wanted the conversation to keep going, Mical was much less talkative after his little history lesson and particularly reticent about himself, once again. Without any other conversation topics to throw at him, Kionee had to let him go. She put away the fruit and retired to her own bunk. They day had been a long one and it was catching up with her. She would need to be awake and alert for their descent to Ossus and into unfamiliar territory for her. From what she knew of Ossus, there were no organized settlements there, so no traffic control to guide her in. Finding a landing zone would be on her shoulders and hers alone.

Before she knew it, Emtee's mechanical voices was waking her up over the comm, announcing reversion to real-space in five minutes. Kionee rolled off of her bunk with a groan. She threw back on her clothes, fastened a belt around her waist, and pulled on her boots. Often times, she did not even bother with that last step, but she had a guest aboard the _Viridian_ and felt the need to be completely dressed for work. She started out of her bunk room but caught sight of herself in the small mirror by the doorway and thought better of it. She snatched a brush out of the small compartment beside the mirror and roughly brushed at her hair, drawing it back into a ponytail. Then, mostly satisfied, headed back to the cockpit.

Mical was already there waiting for her, strapping into his passenger seat. "Did you rest well?" he asked.

"Yeah," Kionee replied then added quickly in his own pattern, "Thanks. Did you?"

"Fine, thank you," he answered.

As she settled into her chair and swept a gaze over all the dials and screens to double check that everything was alright for landing, she asked, "Where exactly on Ossus are we going?"

"To the ruins of the old Great Library of the Jedi," he answered, "According to my research, it should be right around the coordinates of 15.76 north, 48.03 west."

"Do you know if there is good, flat landing ground in the area?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, your guess is as good as mine," he answered with an apologetic shrug.

"Alrighty," she nodded, "I guess we'll find out when we get there." She punched Mical's coordinates into the ship's computer and let it calibrate.

"Reverting to real-space," MT-412 announced.

"Here we go," Kionee murmured absently under her breath. The ship slowed abruptly, jolting them in their seats. The stars slowed down as they did, resolving into familiar points of light, and the green and brown sphere of Ossus sprang up in front of them. "So this is Ossus," she observed quietly. Momentarily distracted, Kionee studied the navacomputer readouts. The coordinates gave a location on the day side of the planet, but it would not be day there for much longer. "It looks like your library is on the other side of the planet," she said, "Let's get on over there and see what we can find."

Kioneebrought the _Viridian_ around the planet in a wide, descending arc, drawing nearer as they rounded to the other side of Ossus. When the angle was right, she pointed the nose of her ship planet-ward and dove down towards the surface.

Ossus was tangled with jungles and devoid of any cities she could see, not unlike Onderon. As they descended, however, Kionee was struck by the tortured angles of the trees and the distinct absence of foliage. The green she had seen from space were mostly vines and ferns, wound around the trunks of dead trees. _Ossus was devastated in the war with Exar Kun, wasn't it? That's why the Jedi aren't there any more._ Kionee suddenly began to marvel that the jungles were alive at all.

"There it is, on the horizon," Mical said suddenly, pointing out the forward viewport. "Do you see it?"

Kionee squinted into the orange setting sun. Sure enough, on the horizon was what appeared to be some sort of small stone mountain jutting out of the jungle treetops. As they drew nearer, it resolved into ruined towers and halls; the old stronghold of the Jedi.

Finally they were on top of it. Kionee circled around slowly, looking for a place to land. Jungle crowded in around and even through the library from all sides.

"The Great Library of the Jedi still stands, after all these years of abandonment," Mical marveled, oblivious to Kionee's dilemma.

"I'm going to have to take the ship down on top of the library," Kionee warned, "Unless you want to jump from here. The jungle is too thick to put the _Viridian_ down safely anywhere else and expect to actually be able to lift off again. Do you think the roof will hold?"

Kionee's question brought Mical back to the issues of the present moment. "If you select a sturdy section to land on," he responded slowly, "Or that courtyard down there."

"Too small," Kionee shook her head.

"That section of roof over there?" Mical suggested, pointing to another open section, several stories higher up, "The architecture still looks sound from here."

"We'll give that a try. It looks like our best bet," Kionee agreed and started to bring the ship down. This was going to have to be one of the gentlest landings she had ever performed. Engaging the repulsor coils at full power from twenty meters up still, she eased off the ship's main engine until the _Viridian's_ vertical descent was hardly more than a crawl. She bit her lip in intense concentration. With her eyes on the ground sensors, Kionee shifted their trajectory just slightly closer to the edge of the platform roof, closer to where the supportive walls would be underneath. She gradually eased off the repulsor lifts and let gravity have more of its hold over the _Viridian. _Then, with a gentle bump, the _Viridian_ touched down. Kionee held her breath for a moment, waiting for the inevitable creaking and crumbling sounds, but it never came. She let out a relieved sigh and half-laughed, "Well, we're here."

"Magnificently done, Mistress Kionee," MT-412 praised.

Mical even clapped his hands twice. "Yes, well done indeed," Mical applauded.

"Well, do you want to go check it out?" Kionee asked, beaming.

"I'll go get my bag," Mical replied excitedly. He slipped out of his seat, out the cockpit exit and into his quarters. By the time Kionee finished her routine system checks and shut-downs, Mical was back with his leather satchel strung over his shoulder.

"I'll be right there," Kionee assured him as she caught sight of his reflection in the window.

"May I remind you, Mistress Kionee," Emtee put in as she got up and gathered her own things, "That we can remain her for no more than half a standard hour if we are to return to Telos IV in time for your pre-departure meeting with Chodo Habat for our next run to Onderon."

"Right," Kionee nodded absently. Mical's light-hearted excitement to see the surface of Ossus was contagious. Now, she too was eagerly curious to see the ruins for herself as well. Turning to Mical, she followed him down to the cargo hold and lowered the ramp for him. Warm evening air greeted them as they descended.

Ossus was far drier and cooler than Onderon, even at this time of day. The trees were smaller and the drone of insects was gentler. Somehow, Ossus felt much less wild than Onderon, even without any living settlements. The setting binary suns Adega Prime and Adega Besh cast a yellowy-orange hue over the forest from the west.

A gentle warm breeze teasing at her ponytail, standing in the soft evening light with a sweet Republic historian on the roof of the ruins of an ancient Jedi library, Kionee could not recall ever feeling so peaceful in her life. All the unknowns, uncertainties, and ungainliness in her life was washed away by a pervasive calm that warmed every corner of her being. She stood there watching the suns set with Mical, feeling neither self-conscious nor a rush to be on her way to her next job.

"No wonder the Jedi established their library here," Mical breathed.

"It's so peaceful," Kionee murmured.

Mical met her eyes with a relaxed smile and nodded. "You feel it too, then," he observed. He began to wander towards the edge of the roof, glancing around for a way down. Kionee followed contentedly, practically forgetting about the schedule she had to keep.

A rectangular gap in the roof opened up to an uneven set of stairs. Mical brushed away a clump of resilient vines and started down with a glance over his shoulder at Kionee. She followed slowly after him into the dim, dusty interior. Golden evening light streamed in through large, arched windows on the western wall and another doorway opened into a much larger room on the other side. Mical continued through without a word.

The hall they entered was massive, easily big enough to fit two whole modules of Citadel Station within it. Though overgrown and crumbling, Kionee could still see the masterful work that went into its creation. Colorful painted murals had not yet flaked away. The remains of tiered fountains blossomed up out of the floor at regular intervals.

"The Jedi's Court," Mical said with quiet wonder, "It is said that the Jedi trained here for centuries. Everything from saber practice, to meditation, to debate was all practiced here, together in community."

"It's beautiful," Kionee commented.

"It is a shame that the Jedi never returned to this place," Mical said with a sigh, "Now that the land is beginning to recover from the radiation and shockwave of the Cron Cluster. The plants and some of the wildlife seem to be returning to life with veracity. Even if the Jedi had not left us now, they have their grand temple on Coruscant. They are intertwined with the governing of the Republic and their presence is needed on Coruscant more than either they or the senate knows. Even now. Even if the Jedi were to return to the galaxy again, I doubt it would be to this place."

"Aren't you worried about the lingering effects of radiation here?" Kionee asked.

Mical shook his head. "I will test everything before I ingest it," he replied firmly, "I have the necessary equipment for such tests with me."

Kionee felt only slightly comforted.

Mical stiffened and scrutinized the room around them.

"What is it?" Kionee asked at a whisper. She had not seen or heard anything.

"I suddenly felt," Mical replied slowly, "Like we are being watched."

"Watched? By who?" Kionee asked. "Would could possibly be here?"

"I don't know," Mical shook his head, then turned to Kionee and said abruptly, "I should not keep you here any longer. You have your appointment to make."

"Are you sure it's safe for you here?" Kionee asked, "I could stay here with the _Viridian_ while you do your research, if you want."

"No, I can't ask you do that," Mical replied decisively, "The Telos Restoration Project needs you more than I need the shelter of your ship."

"Then I can stop back on my way to or from Onderon on one of my next runs, if I work it out right," Kionee offered. "Would four days be enough for your research, or would you rather it be eight or twelve?"

"I don't know," Mical admitted, "There is probably more material here than I could take in for a lifetime of research. I may need plenty of time to find what I am hoping for. Can I hail you when I am ready to be picked up?"

"Of course," Kionee replied and dug one of her business cards out of a vest pocket. She pulled out a pen from another pocket and scrawled as long number onto the back. "Here's my card. I can't believe I didn't give you one earlier. That's the _Viridian's _info on the front, and I wrote my personal comm contact number on the back, in case I don't pick up on the ship. As soon as I hear from you, I'll come by on my way to my next run."

"Thank you, Kionee," Mical replied, suspiciously scanning the hall again, "You really are too generous."

"How long do I wait to hear from you before I assume the worst and bring in a search party?" Kionee asked. She did not like leaving him here without even a tent or a weapon to protect himself. She really hoped he kept a hold-out blaster in that travel satchel of his.

Mical laughed at her. "Don't worry about me Kionee," he replied nonchalantly, "I will be fine. And even if Ossus claims me, I am not a man that the galaxy will miss; just another hobbyist historian."

"Don't say that," Kionee scolded and surprised herself at her own forcefulness, "Every person, no matter what their occupation, has importance to the grand scale of things, to the universe. And besides, you're—you're..." Kionee swallowed, trying not to seem too forward, "I consider you one of my friends, and I'd hate for something to happen to you and for me do nothing about it."

"I don't know what I have done to earn your friendship, but I appreciate it," Mical replied, looking a bit surprised but pleased all at once, "It has been a long while since I had someone I could call a friend. Perhaps I have far too many professional acquaintances."

Kionee suddenly felt very sad for him, but then she thought to her own long list of professional acquaintances and short list of personal friends. Maybe she wasn't so different from him in that sense after all. "If I don't hear from you in a month and a half, I'm coming back," Kionee promised, "So if you're doing just fine and want more time by then, please drop me a line so I don't have to worry about you."

"I will," Mical promised, "And I promise I will be careful."

"Thanks," Kionee grinned, then teased, "I'll hold you to that."

Mical chuckled.

"But I guess I really should get going back to Telos," she admitted reluctantly, "Take care of yourself, Mical, and good luck with your research."

"Thank you again, Kionee," Mical replied, "I will contact you when I am finished here."

"See you," Kionee added in one last farewell and turned back to the room they entered through, then headed up the stairs. Again, she looked forward to the next time she would be called up to take him from one planet to another. In the back of her head, she prayed that he would stay safe on this polluted, alien world.


	31. Chapter 31

Part 31- Mandalore the Preserver

Heat and humidity pressed at Canderous through his thick armor, but it did not faze him. Complaining of discomforts was a sign of weakness, and he had long since shut weakness out of his life, long before even his test at thirteen years old, Canderous was wholly Mandalorian and wholly strong.

He grew up into what the Republic called the Mandalorian Wars. He gained honor and renown in battle. He crushed his opponents and lived out to the end of each day. He became a strategist and commander in Mandalore's armies for Clan Ordo, and they swept through the galaxy with unchecked victory.

Then Revan entered the battle, bringing with her only a handful of Jedi. The other Jedi were inconsequential next to Revan. Her decisive and bold strategies had the same subtleties, the same flexibilities as the Mandalorians. Canderous eagerly looked forward to the day that he would be considered worthy to lead and assault against Revan, knowing that that day would probably be his last. The glory and honor of fighting on the same battlefield as such an enemy was worth whatever the cost.

And then Revan and one of her top Jedi generals lured the bulk of the Mandalorian forces to the taboo world of Malachor V. Revan met Mandalore the Ultimate in single combat on the edge of the battle and emerged victorious. It was a duel that none could contest. And then, with Revan still far from the front lines, her general unleashed the most terrible weapon the galaxy had ever known. They called it the Mass Shadow Generator. Canderous did not know how it worked, nor did he want to know, but the aftermath of its power still remained in orbit around Malachor V, a floating graveyard around a dead world. It destroyed nearly everything, even much of the planet. Mandalorian ships imploded, Basilisk War Droids shattered, Republic Cruisers burned. Millions upon millions of warriors died that day.

Canderous could not count himself lucky to have been held in reserve on the edge of the battlefield. As his comrades died in the vacuum, he remained unscathed. It fell to him and the few remaining Mandalorians to take the surrender and call the war to an end. They faced ultimate shame at the hands of the ever-compassionate Jedi and Republic leaders. The clans would not be killed, finishing the job. They would not be imprisoned. They only would be stripped of their armor, their weapons, their war droids, and thereby, their honor. Left with nothing, the Mandalorian Clans were broken and scattered, left to be wandering thugs for hire.

Worse yet, Revan's carefully calculated war plan did not end with the war. She knew that felling one Mandalore would only leave another to rise up in his place, so she took the one think that assured that would never happen again: Mandalore's Mask. She had the Republic hide it away from the Mandalorians so that the clans would never be united again under one leader.

Canderous, ashamed as he was of it now, fell into the trap that so many Mandalorians did after the war, of becoming muscle-for-hire. He worked a number of jobs, eventually ending up on Taris, employed by the local Exchange lord, Davik Kang. Like most other jobs before, he found Davik's work without challenge or stimulation for such a great warrior and strategist as himself. Crushing Davik's rivals or extorting credits from his debtors brought neither glory nor honor. It rarely even brought battle. Most of the spineless lower-city types would spill out their pockets the instant Canderous showed up with his repeating blaster rifle.

The galaxy erupted into war again, but this time the Mandalorians stayed out of it. Revan and her trusted second Malak returned from the unknown regions as changed, dark Jedi. They attacked the Republic without warning, catching Republic leaders off-guard. Revan waged a calculated, devastating campaign against the Republic. Eventually, Malak became discontent at his position as only her second, and fired on her ship in the middle of a battle against the Republic. It was a cowardly move, unworthy of any warrior. He shot at her when she was distracted, when she trusted him to hold his part in the battle. Malak should have fought her in single combat and challenged her leadership openly, but he must have known he could not have won that way. Any respect Canderous might have had for Malak was shattered that day. He was an honorless usurper. Although Malak escaped that battle, becoming the leader of the Sith, Revan did not, and the Republic won the day. Malak sacrificed that crucial battle for his own gain.

Canderous watched all of this from the sidelines of his mercenary work. He admired Revan's strategies and reviled Malak's. There were days when he longed to rejoin the war effort, on one side or the other, but he could not. A Mandalorian without his armor, without his honor, had no place on the battlefield.

But then Revan returned to the scene again, as a Republic soldier by the name of Evrue Pell. Canderous did not recognize her at the time, and she did not even know it herself, but Ev quickly proved to be one of the sharpest humans and keenest warriors the Republic had ever seen. Canderous should have recognized her for what she was immediately, except that Revan was supposed to be dead.

With Ev's help, Canderous stole Davik's prized ship, the _Ebon Hawk_ and fled the Sith blockade of Taris, just as Malak decided to bomb the planet into oblivion in a desperate search for Bastila Shan, who had fallen to the surface from a recent battle overhead. They escaped with Bastila, a Republic Lieutenant named Carth Onasi, and two more hangers-on from Taris: a Twi'lek kid Mission Vao and her Wookiee friend Zaalbar.

Ev was 'discovered' to be powerfully sensitive in the Force, and so they went to the secret Jedi training enclave on Dantooine. Canderous went along, as he had no other place in mind to go, and Ev did not seem to mind having him along, whatever Carth or Bastila's objections might be. Then the Jedi commissioned Bastila and Ev to seek out the secret to the Sith's power. They followed clues—star maps—from planet to planet until they finally came to the Sith's super space station and weapon's factory.

The Star Forge supplied all of the Sith's new ships, fighters, armor, weapons, and droids. It was an ancient Force-powered space station built by an all-but-extinct race, the Rakata. Ev infiltrated the Star Forge, faced Malak in one-on-one combat as it should have been long before and emerged victorious. With the help of the Republic fleet, the Star Forge was destroyed.

Then there were the endless victory parties and tours for these heroes. It was bad publicity for a Mandalorian, to be seen on the Republic side of the war, even if it had been the winning side, fighting alongside Revan. Canderous slipped away from the tours as quickly as he could.

But he could not find is place in the currents of the galaxy again. Traveling with Revan had changed him. Her high morals yet complex motivations were disorienting to the values of anyone her influence touched. He tried to work for the Exchange on Coruscant again, but found even less satisfaction in it than before.

He had fought alongside Revan. Nothing could be as glorious again.

And then she came to find him again. Memories were returning. The line between who she was before and who she was then was becoming increasingly blurred. She suspected that there had been something more behind the Mandalorian Wars, and wanted to know what Canderous knew about it. Admittedly, he knew little, but he had heard the rumors of a deal with the Sith. That was all she needed to hear, setting herself on an obsessive quest to discover the truth of the suspicion.

She returned to him again, this time with the knowledge every Mandalorian hoped for and yet lost hope of years before. She knew where the mask of Mandalore was kept, and she wanted him to retake it. She wanted him to become Mandalore and to reunite the clans.

So, with her blessing, Canderous went with two of his new-found Ordo brothers on Coruscant, to the Republic Military outpost on Ruac II. They sneaked in and stole the mask. They stole weapons and armor, things they would need to rebuild the clans together. The Republic never saw it coming. And, thanks to the brilliant tech work of Zuka and a couple of high-end stealth field generators, the Republic did not see it going either. As far as Canderous knew, the Republic still did not know that their vault had been breached and that Mandalore's mask was gone.

Canderous was now Mandalore. Few of even his closest brothers in Clan Ordo knew who he truly was. He rarely took off his armor or his mask, even at night. Canderous' association with Evrue Pell was widely known. It could produce some interesting politics among the Mandalorians if they knew that it was Canderous Ordo behind the mask. There was no place for politics among the Mandalorians, so he would avoid such a thing at all costs.

He traveled the galaxy following rumors of recent strongholds of Ordo warriors, where they gathered and hoped for a better future. He sought out names of old friends he knew must still be alive somewhere. Little by little, he gathered Clan Ordo back together.

He made his base on Duxn, the jungle moon of Onderon. It was perfect for his purposes. The jungle tested his warriors. It kept them on edge. It made them respect the cycles of life and death and strive to win over them. Duxn was also the sight of one of the bloodiest battles in the Mandalorian Wars. The hollowed-out hulls of ships and occasional skeletal remains of soldiers from both sides of the war were a constant reminder of what they were once and what they could be.

The old outpost in the jungle had once been used by the Mandalorians as a command center for their war efforts on Duxn, and now they would use it again, not for war, but for training and preparation. Many of the Mandalorians had fallen far from their peak conditioning of the wars, of the glory days. Here, Canderous would whip them all into shape and into readiness for the day that Ev returned to the Republic and called for the aid of the Mandalorians.

Canderous surveyed the grassy field of their enclosed fort. Mandalorians in cobbled-together suits of armor sparred and trained. Others worked hard at the outposts defenses. This place was the start of something new. He was the start of something knew. He was Mandalore.

There were already a number of young Mandalorian clansmen who had never even had the chance to fight in the wars, but jumped at a chance to become what their forefathers had been. They were the least disciplined of his men—barely warriors at all.

Canderous' own armor looked hardly any better than the rest of them. It was salvaged from what they found at the Republic outpost. Canderous opted against the bright colored Neo Crusader armor. As Mandalore, he could not look the same as the rest of the Mandalorians. Unfortunately, there were very few samples of generic Mandalorian armor to be had. Silvery gray spiked pauldrons capped off a red breast plate. His leg armor was even darker red, while blackish-gray armor was fastened around his arms. On his head was the helmet of Mandalore, and he finished off the outfit with a garish red cape. It hadn't been his idea but Kex insisted that Mandalore needed a cape. Mandalore the Ultimate and Mandalore the Indomitable both were rarely seen without capes.

The cape tugged in the jungle breeze on his shoulders. It was another irritating inconvenience he tried to ignore. He watched clouds roll in from the north over the jungle and waited.

Right on time, Bralor and Kelborn approached his administrative building from around the corner. They walked tall and upright in their bright Neo Crusader armor, with the pride in their bearing that Canderous hoped every Mandalorian would soon learn. Though there were a number of other men at camp with red or yellow armor like theirs, Canderous could always recognize these two by their bearings.

"Kelborn reporting for duty, Mandalore," he said, stopping crisply before his leader. Kelborn wore the red armor that he had managed to salvage several years back from a war-deserter and kept it hidden for the day when he might need it again. The day Canderous found him working as a scout on Duros was the day he had been long waiting for. He needed no urging to don his armor again and regain his honor as a Mandalorian again.

"Bralor reporting for duty," Bralor added. His armor was the bright yellow of a field marshal in the Mandalorian armies. He was older even than Canderous and had been higher ranking during the wars. Somehow, he too had survived the final battle at Malachor V. This trip today was his idea.

"Alright then, let's move out," Canderous said with a crisp nod, and headed out across the lawn towards the hangars to their shuttle.

Bralor had been present in the early war, when it had first started. He had been on the committee that cast out a false Mandalore in order to follow the war path of Mandalore the Ultimate.

Now, Bralor had his doubts. Mandalore the Ultimate won that contest unfairly, and now saw with the clarity of hindsight that outsiders had been involved in Mandalore the Ultimate's victory: the Sith. Immediately after he assumed the title of Mandalore, he initiated their campaign of war against the Republic and all of their aligned systems.

Most importantly, Bralor remembered where Mandalore cast out the 'false' Mandalore and his followers; to the fourth moon of their home planet Mandalore, Haranarpat. If they were still alive, this whole clan of cast-out Mandalorians would be among the best allies Canderous could hope for. He needed to begin reaching out beyond Clan Ordo, and this seemed to be a powerful place to start.

They boarded the shuttle and Kelborn took the pilot's seat with Bralor at his right. Canderous was content to ride behind and bark out orders whenever he thought it appropriate. Thus was the position and privilege of Mandalore.

The journey was not a long one, ten hours at best, but most of it was spent in silence between the men. Bralor briefed them on what he could remember of the struggle and of the exiles. Although many of the 'false' Mandalore's clansmen followed him into exile, so did others from other clans who believed that it was better to cast in their loyalty with him than with a usurper.

They dropped into the Mandalore system and skirted around the edges of the planet sensors. They did not need to confront any of the Mandalore government just yet. Canderous needed more allies before that day would come. They skirted around its orbit to the dark, fourth moon. Haranarpat was small, but its gravity pull was strong from its heavy metal core. Like his own home planet of Ordo, the moon's greenery was concentrated only in a wide belt around the equator. The exiled clan, if they still existed, could only be living there.

"Bralor, prep the scanners for signs of life," Canderous ordered, "begin your scans as soon as we are through the atmosphere."

"Understood," Bralor replied crisply and set to work.

Kelborn continued to pilot his course deftly in silence. They rumbled through the atmosphere in their old, rickety shuttle, but it held together as well as it always did. Kelborn brought them lower and began flying a circle around the moon's center life belt.

"I've got something here, Mandalore," Bralor announced after nearly half an hour of flying. "I think we've got people down there, ten clicks ahead."

"Then bring us down, Kelborn," Canderous ordered. Bralor was never wrong on things like these.

Kelborn found an open clearing in the scattered low brush of the forest, though it could hardly be called a forest. The trees were hardly taller than a man, low and gnarly with blackish-green evergreen leaves. It made ground visibility tough and gave plenty of cover for scouts and sentries. If there were Mandalorians here, Canderous knew that there would be scouts on them already. Their own bright colored armor would make easy targets of them, and that was part of the idea. Canderous wanted to talk, so he wanted to be seen. All the better if he got shot at and could shoot back at them. That would prove his honor and prowess as a warrior.

The three of them disembarked from the ship and locked it up tightly with all the security systems live. If these Mandalorians had been exiled here for decades, they would be eager to steal any form of transport to get off the moon and finally rejoin society. They might not even know of how the wars had turned out.

Kelborn wanted to lead the way as protection for Canderous, but Canderous would not have it. Mandalore would lead them, with all of the pomp of his ridiculous red cape and bright brassy mask of Mandalore. They would see him and know who he was. Mandalore did not cower behind others for protection like other leaders of the galaxy. He had his weapon ready in his arms. He might look like a walking target in all of these bright colors, but he would not make it easy for them.

Through the darkened visor of his helmet, Canderous caught sight of movement ahead.

"Mandalore," Kelborn warned lowly, "There's someone up ahead."

"I see him," Canderous rumbled back. "Let's go say hello." He continued at his same, brisk pace, without veering in his path or slowing. _So they are still here after all these years. Good._

More movement in the low brush ahead identified at least six more warriors, all behaving like well-trained Mandalorians. "Weapons at the ready," he warned into the private helmet channel between the three of them.

Suddenly, there was a yell and a gun fired. It went wide of their group, an intentional shot to scare them off, but Canderous would not be deterred. He leveled his blaster rifle at where the shot had come from and let off a volley of shots. There was another cry, this time a death rattle, and the other guns all ahead of them opened up in fire.

Canderous blazed forward into the denser trees, placing each of the six remaining attackers in his head. Bralor and Kelborn took to the bushes for cover and sniped off attackers one at a time. Canderous felt shots ricochet off his armor and the thrill of battle overtook him. His determined, plodding charge into the middle of his apponents was a daring move, but it proved his determination and bravery. He trusted Kelborn and Bralor with his back.

Soon enough, Canderous was right on top of the front line of their little group. They were Mandalorians alright, though they lacked the colorful, streamlined armor of Neo Crusaders. Their personalized armor spoke of an era before the Neo Crusaders. These were the soldiers he was looking for.

With a roar and flash of his cape, Canderous lunged forward at the man nearest to him. The man flinched, giving time for Canderous to shoot him through the sensitive gap in the armor at his neck. Not waiting a moment to see if he was dead, Canderous rounded on the next nearest attacker. Soon, he too was dead.

It was not long until all seven of the advance guard were dead. Canderous suffered a grazing shot in the gap in his armor on his upper arm, but he had had far worse. Kelborn and Bralor seemed to have escaped mostly unscathed. If they had been injured it all, neither would admit it.

They left the dead behind them and continued as they were through the scrub forest belt. Up ahead, there was movement again. This time, it was a figure jogging towards them. Canderous stopped and trained his weapon on the approaching man. Kelborn and Bralor followed his example. The man, also armored from head to toe in silvery gray Mandalorian armor skidded to a stop in an opening in the small trees ahead of him. He raised his hands to the sky and called, "Peace, brothers. Who are you and why have you come for us after all this time?"

Canderous lowered his blaster rifle but his two companions did not. "I am Mandalore and I am here to call for support of this exiled clan. I come to bring you back out of exile," Canderous announced, stepping forwards towards him. "Take me to your leader, messenger."

"Mandalore would want to see you then," the messenger in silvery-gray said, lowering his hands, "Come with me, 'Mandalore.'"

"Lead on," Canderous replied, and motioned to Kelborn and Bralor to lower their weapons. Again they fell into step behind him as the old Mandalorian guided them through woods.

The scrubby trees gave way to broader clearings and to small huts built up out of the gnarled wood, forced into woven walls. There were several guards in old, but well-kept Mandalorian armor around the perimeter. If they really were the first guests to the moon in all of these years, the vigilance of these guards on the small settlement was impressive. The true ethics of proud Mandalorians even in Exile. Canderous liked them already.

Mandalorians scrutinized them through darkened visors and unarmored men, women, and children of the village watched them pass with curiosity. Some acknowledged their presence with looks of respect while others seemed to harbor bitterness.

_Locked up on this barren rock for this long without a transport for this long, I'd be bitter too_, Canderous thought.

Finally, their guide led them to the largest of the gnarled huts in the center of the settlement. Here also were two more guards at the door. The first real sign he had seen of technology beyond weapons in the settlement were two large antennas protruding from the roof of the hut. This must be the home of their leader.

The two guards watched their movements carefully the three outsiders as they passed trough the doorway and inside.

The hut was lit with gentle glows, hardly enough to read or work by, but this was not a place for work. On the far wall was a wide bed frame piled high with blankets. The figure of a slumped man lay propped up on several pillows. Although he lay in bed like a weakling, his posture fought to appear alert and his gaze followed them as they approached through the visor of a polished black helmet.

"Dar'mand'alor," the guide announced with a respectful bow and hand to his chest, "This man has come to us via shuttle. He claims to be Mandalore, here for our alliance and to bring us out of exile."

"And why should I give my allegiance to another pretender?" an old voice rattled from beneath the helmet.

"Dar'mand'alor," Canderous stepped forward, closer to the bed. "Mandalore the Unknown?"

"Unknown and unseated by that pretender 'Mandalore the Ultimate'," the old man snapped, "I am the true heir of Mandalore the Indomitable, and he took my claim from me from behind my back. He had me and my people exiled here, refused my challenge, saying only that I was unworthy to lead the clans if I would not move with the times, if I would not take the deal of the Sith. Who are you to call yourself any better?"

"I am the new Mandalore," Canderous said impressively, "Mandalore the Ultimate is long dead, at the hands of one of the greatest warriors the universe has ever seen: Revan. She took his mask from his and hid it, knowing that it would break the clans without a leader to gather us together. I have found this mask and I am reuniting the clans. They will come together and the Mandalorians will be a force to be reckoned with in the galaxy once again."

"You talk big for a scavenger," the old Mandalore on the bed scoffed. Turning to his guard, he ordered, "Leave us." He turned his visored gaze to Kelborn and Bralor as well, "You too."

With a bow and without any protest, the three other men left. Mandalore pushed himself up on his elbows to sit higher in the bed. For the first time, Canderous saw the gray pallor of the skin on his hands. He was either very ill or-

Slowly, Mandalore pulled his helmet from his head and set it on the bedding beside him. He had a gray-green face of sharp angles with piercing eyes. He was a Taung, perhaps one of the last living Taung in the entire Mandalorian Clans. "Do you know who I am?" he asked, his rasping voice now free of the echoes of the helmet.

"You are another Mandalore," Canderous answered, "One who defied Mandalore the Ultimate's battle plan and was exiled for it."

"History forgets so quickly," the old Taung shook his head, "He was not even named Mandalore then. His name was Yant Vizsla. He was one of my senior strategists. When those red-faced Sith appeared out of nowhere, telling us to attack the Republic, offering raw materials, factories, and weapons for our effort, he was there. I was new, the old Mandalore having just fallen to my hand, but I knew that Mandalorians answered to no one. To fight for a secret master, it was the beginning of the end. I saw what became of my predecessor under the slavery of Exar Kun. That is why I challenged him in the first place. I would not allow the Mandalorian pride to be enslaved to the Sith again.

"Yant thought differently. In fact, many of my circle did. He used his supporters to overwhelm me," Mandalore continued, "They pried the mask off my face, but they would not kill me. For greater shame, they would exile me to a moon in my very own home system, where I could see the world I had once ruled, but never again touch it. They did the same to my followers. Others chose to follow as well, not from my clan, and thus we formed a new clan here in this barren place, the Unknown clan. We are never lax in our vigilance.

"We know what has gone on out there, 'Mandalore'," he continued warningly, "We listen to the broadcasts. We know that the pretender has fallen. We know that there was another war, fought without us. We know that the galaxy is in shambles, a the point of tipping past rescue. Had I been at the head of the Mandalorians, this would never have happened. It is my shame and it is my pride. Do you understand that?"

"I understand as any other Mandalorian who has fallen from glory and seeks to see it rise again. We are Mando'ade," Canderous replied firmly, "It is my shame and pride that I survived to see the day that the Mandalorian clans were defeated in brilliant battle and strategy. I am glad that I was able to live for that glory, even if losses caught up with us in the end. As long as I breathe, I will never forget what that felt like or forget my promise to rebuild the clans to their former glory. If the clans fragment now, if our sons' generations lose their loyalties and history, the Mandalorians will never again stand as one. We will forever be seen as an army that failed and remained broken, the mockery of the galaxy. I will not stand for such a history."

"Good," the old Mandalore chuckled. "I heard that you and your two men defeated seven of my best scouts. Your senses are keen and your drive is keener 'Mandalore'. You are a great warrior, and it shows in your bearing and in your words, but do I trust you to lead the clans?"

Canderous waited quietly for the answer. If he took the mask that Mandalore the Ultimate wore but had the blessing of the Taung who Mandalore the Ultimate sole it from, he could ask for little more. That was all that could be given. The rest, he would have to earn for himself.

"Who are you under that armor, 'Mandalore'? What is your clan? Where do your loyalties lie?" Mandalore asked, his gaze was piercing.

Canderous hesitated, but knew that he could not go forward with this old Taung with anything less than honesty. At least to the questions directed at him. He reached up with thickly gloved hands and removed his mask and then his helmet. "I am Canderous of Clan Ordo," he replied.

"Ordo," Mandalore mused, "Fine warriors with true spirit. There are some of Ordo Clan among my exiles. And you are not young and foolish as many Mandalores have been before you. What drives you, Canderous?"

"To see the clans reunited to their former glory," Canderous replied mechanically.

"To wage war on the galaxy again, is that it?" Mandalore asked shrewdly.

"No," Canderous replied, meeting the old Taung's steely stare, "To show the galaxy what true warriors are—what true discipline, brotherhood, honor, and glory are. To set and example and to be ready for when battle does find us. The Mandalorians will never be a people of peace. We are a people of battle and we must live as if each next day will bring war to our fronts whether it comes or not."

"Well spoken," Mandalore said approvingly.

"And if you take my people back with you, what will you do with them? Will they be subordinate to your Ordo brothers?" he asked, scrutinizing Canderous closely.

"They will be equal to all of the others in my camp," Canderous replied, "Until they prove otherwise. If they are strong and great warriors, they will become my leaders. If they sloth about, they will be put back into training with the pups that are Mandalorians in name only. A man earns his place in my camp."

"As you have earned yours, Mandalore," the old Taung said with an approving nod. "You will lead the clans well. You will follow that drive until it kills you. You are loyal beyond your own knowing. I can see that all. But what will they call you? You are no Mandalore the Ultimate. You are no Mandalore the Indomitable."

Canderous waited. It was never Mandalore who named himself. His actions earned a name for him. Canderous had not yet earned his name, but to receive a name from this dying Taung, a previous Mandalore who yet lived, that would be an honor.

"You seek not to wage war or seek victory over the galaxy but to reunite and preserve all that is Mandalorian," he observed, "You shall be Mandalore the Preserver. I retire the name of Mandalore and give it to you. From this day, I shall just be The Unknown."

"Thank you, Dar'mand'alor," Canderous replied, "I will bring honor and loyalty back to the clans where it was lost."

"Take my people back to your Ordo clan-mates," Mandalore urged, "They have suffered exile with honor for me all of these twenty-five long years. It is time for them to live the life of the redeemed. Redeem them, Mandalore." He gestured to a woven stick closet at the other end of the hut, "And take what is in there, my armor, and this helmet. Show the galaxy that you are my successor, Preserver."

"I will make your legacy mine, and I will bring it glory," Canderous promised.

"Now put on your mask and never take the name Canderous again," the old Taung ordered, "You will never be just a man any more. Mandalore is so much more than just a man, but you know that. I will remain here on this moon, to live out what little time I have left of my exile in honor, but I order the rest of my people to go with you. There is more glory in the future than in the past."

"I will take my men to the nearest free spaceport and arrange for transports," Canderous told him. "Have your men ready to travel at a moment's notice. Pack their armor and weapons away. The galaxy is not friendly to the clans in these days. It is not yet time to reveal our presence. We are still to fragile to bear the brunt of the Republic's paranoia."

"I will see it done," the old Mandalore promised, "Today is the day they have all longed for. Te Taylir Mand'alor, your armor." The old Taung again gestured with a shaking, gray hand.

Canderous stepped to the cabinet and pulled the creaking door open. Polished as pristine as Madalore's armor should be, a full set black and silver armor hung ready for use on an armor rack of gnarled wood. Canderous stripped out of his armor with ceremonial solemnity, setting each piece aside at the foot of the cabinet, starting with the garish red cape. He fastened on the black and silver armor from toe to head. Seeing his cape piled with the mismatched armor he had shed, Canderous could not dawn it again. Mandalore the Ultimate and Mandalore the Indomitable may have favored that particular item for drama, but he was neither. He was Mandalore the Preserver, one who would walk in his own footsteps.

Finally, he took the mask of Mandalore and approached the dying Taung's bed. Wordlessly, he knelt before the bed. Mandalore the Unknown hefted the helmet that still rested on his lap onto Canderous' head and then Canderous fastened the mask over it. The visors did not quite line up, but the effect was important. He would incorporate the two pieces better later.

"_Ret'urcye mhi, _Mandalore the Preserver," Mandalore the Unknown said with approval, "Remember, a warrior is more than his armor.."

"_Ret'urcye mhi, _Unknown," he replied and rose. He turned back towards the doorway then stepped out into the dim daylight as Mandalore the Preserver. This era was his.


	32. Chapter 32

Part 32- Bait for the Trap

"Mistress," Riva ventured, stepping inside the open door of Atris's private meditation chamber. The glow of red and blue from the holocrons cast fuchsia shadows on her bleached clothes, hair, and pale face. Atris's striking white hair, Jedi robes, and geometrically patterned tabards were also eerily lit. She was not in meditation, but staring up at a particular Jedi Holocron stored high on the wall above her with her hands clasped behind her back. "May I enter?" Riva asked.

Atris slowly spun around with the careful, calculated dignity that Riva and all of the other handmaidens admired. "Yes, you may enter Riva," she invited. "What is it?"

"I have news," Riva said as she entered smoothly, masking her hesitance. The glare of the holocrons always unnerved her and the others, who could not feel the Force as Atris did. "We have found where the Jedi Exile has been hiding all of these years."

Atris straightened up and her blue eyes flashed. With five swift steps she closed the distance between herself and Riva. "Where have you found her, and how?" she asked. There was eagerness in her voice that Riva had not heard in ages.

"She is living in her own self-imposed exile on the planet of Tchuukthai," she answered, "One of the few traders trusted by the locals to know the location of their planet happened to mention that there was a human woman living there, under the blessing of the late Master Thon."

"Master Thon," Atris said slowly and nodded thoughtfully, "He did always have a soft spot for her. He never really knew her for what she became after he left the Jedi Council for the outer rim."

"She has been quietly living there, alone in a hut of her own making, since shortly after the war, never once leaving or initiating any communications with the outside world," Riva continued, "She has taken her exile to its completion."

"Her respect for the councils decision is remarkable, and even baffling, given her history," Atris said with bitter sarcasm. "She defied us over and over again, and it led to her own downfall. It led to her exile. It is one she has earned."

"Then perhaps she has realized that now," Riva suggested.

"Unlikely, for one as proud as she was," Atris responded, "For one as certain of herself in anything she does. Ah, but it us good to know that she is still alive. She may be just the Jedi we need to set our plans into motion."

"You refer to your plans for drawing out the enemies who attacked the Jedi," Riva asked.

Atris nodded. "She will be the bait," Atris declared, "I am glad you found her. You did well to follow so many leads."

"It would be remiss for me to claim credit for such a thing," Riva admitted, "Although I am the one who was elected to bring the news to you, it is the least of the handmaidens who discovered this trail of evidence to her existence."

"Brianna it is then?" Atris mused, "I am surprised that the least of you would be the one to discover the greatest bit of information that we have had in a long time."

"I am sorry for our failings, Mistress," Riva apologized, head bowed. "My sisters and I will redouble our efforts."

"You are forgiven," Atris said dismissively, "Perhaps it is only that Brianna is earning her place among you, finally."

"She is still too distracted, to undisciplined," Riva replied swiftly, "She has far to go before she can truly be considered one of your handmaidens."

"Just as well," Atris nodded, "Bring her in. I want to hear from her myself."

Riva turned back to the doorway, but Brianna was already standing in the open space between the two ajar doors, waiting expectantly.

"You have anticipated me," Atris observed. "Come."

Brianna approached slowly each step a laborious process of demeaning herself before her older sister and her mistress.

"Tell me, how did you discover the location of Bryony Thuvell, who has evaded us for the long years?" Atris asked.

"I was combing our contacts and recordings from the station and heard mention of a man bragging that he had a secret contract with Tchuukthai," Brianna explained, "I knew from your lessons that there have been more than one great Tchuukthai Jedi in the recent ages, most notably the late Master Thon, and thought I would investigate it further. Tchuukthai would be a perfect place for a Jedi to hide during this purge. It is off the maps and outside of travel routes in the unknown regions. Only a select few know its coordinates, and one of those was a Jedi Master. I sliced into the station dock logs to see where he had been coming from and going to lately, and found more conversations on records, some other pilots curious about the planet. Though he gave away nothing about the location of the planet, he did mention that there was a woman living on the planet, a human woman, some exile from after the Mandalorian Wars. He often saw her hut and garden as he flew in and asked the Tchuukthai about it, as their dwellings look nothing like such a human home."

"Well done," Atris praised. Brianna started to beam with pride but quickly caught herself and looked stoically at the ground and at the hem of Atris's robes.

"Now we must find a way to bring her back into the Republic space, or even better, the outer rim unaligned territories," Atris concluded, "The best option would be to find your pilot and ask him to relieve her of her exile for us, paying him for her passage. What was his name?"

"Arvor Flowers," Brianna asked. At least her memory was flawless for details, despite its common wanderings, "Pilot of the _Lightning Nerf_, hailing from Corellia. As far as I can tell, he is a legitimate tradesman, who probably also occasionally engages in smuggling."

"Like most freighter pilots these days," Riva added.

"Then he will hopefully respond well to our bribes," Atris replied, "Riva, I want you to meet him. Privately give him our offer. Ask him to take her to wherever his next stop in his journey is, and find out the location."

"Yes mistress," Riva replied, bowing her head respectfully.

For a moment, it looked as if Brianna would protest, begging for the position herself, but she caught her tongue and held it.

"Then we will make it known to the networks, Republic, smuggler, and otherwise that Bryony Thuvell, Knight of the Jedi Order is returned to republic space."

"But why?" Brianna asked, "I don't understand, Mistress. There is a bounty on Jedi now. She would immediately become a target."

"Bryony could always handle herself without the support of anyone else," Atris replied shortly, "I am sure she has not changed much in that respect after her exile. And this knowledge will draw more than just bounty hunters. It will draw out the Sith who seek to destroy us. I cannot risk myself, the last historian of the Jedi Order, but for an exile, who does not belong to the Order any more, she works perfectly for our purposes. When our enemies think they can move openly to take out one last Jedi, a Jedi famed for her participation in the Mandalorian Wars, we will see them for what they are and trap them. Then this dark war can finally end."

"You can't mean to sacrifice another Jedi, even one so misguided as the exile, in order to draw out the Sith," Brianna blurted. "If she has been disconnected from the galaxy for all this time, she does not know what has happened. She will not know of the danger she is in."

"Do you question my wisdom, Brianna?" Atris asked pointedly.

"No mistress," Brianna murmured and stared even more fixatedly at Atris's hem.

"She will discover the danger she is in soon enough. The great general of the Mandalorian Wars surely has not fallen so far that she cannot recognize when her own life is in danger," Atris replied, "And she earned nothing more than this by her actions in the past. She deserved far more than exile. Now, as the sole remaining member of Jedi council, I decree this to be the completion of her punishment for straying so far from the ideals that brought her up and betraying us."

"Last Handmaiden," Atris said sternly. She rarely used the title, though it was the only named used among the sisters who served her. "You may go. Continue your research on the whereabouts of the last of the remaining Jedi."

"Yes Mistress," Brianna said so softly it could hardly be heard and departed with a low bow.

"Now Riva," Atris began again as soon as she had gone, "I want you to take Brianna's research and learn all you can about this man. How much he will need to be paid to ensure he does what we want and how trustworthy he is to keep our involvement a secret. Whatever that amount is, we will pay it."

"Understood, my mistress," Riva replied with a bow of acknowledgment, "I will contact this pilot as soon as I am able." With that, she too departed, leaving Atris alone to her musings.

A day was coming that she could reveal herself. A day was coming that she could openly rebuild the Jedi with her ideas alone forming their precepts. The Jedi Order had fallen far from its original ideals, mired by factions and debate, reforms were never reformed. Alone, Atris could rebuild the Jedi as they never had been before, ready to serve the greater good of the galaxy. This could only be accomplished once the Sith haunting the outer rim of the galaxy were dead, and Bryony Thuvell, traitor though she was, was the key to drawing them out. Bryony would be a prize they could not resist.


	33. Chapter 33

Part 33 - The End of Exile

Bryony Thuvell stood in the open door of her small hut and let the breeze stream through her small living space. The grasses on the rolling hills around her undulated in yellow waves across the land. Insects chirped and droned away the afternoon while a small flock of the orange birds that the Tchuukthai called mariith chirped in the treetop above her hut. It was the only tree for kilometers in any direction. There was no telling how that single seed had made it to the top of the small hill, but it had planted, rooted itself, and grew on that spot. Rather like herself, in fact.

That was one of the reasons she chose this knoll for her home. She built the mud and adobe walls from bricks that she baked for herself in the summer sun and kept it thatched from the elements with the grasses of the fields that surrounded her. The first rainy season, her roof leaked torrents and her walls melted into mud. It had been a steep learning curve. It was a frustrating cycle of building and repairing, but the process was purifying. All the work she did with her hands seemed to purify the dark taint left in her from the wars. By now, ten years later, she had more or less perfected her little mud hit. It kept the weather out and the warmth in. It was her home, her exile.

Every day, she still meditated for hours. First when she rose in the morning, again in the mid-afternoon sun, and once more in the evening before bed. Although the Force had abandoned her ten years ago, at the end of the wars, she still meditated. It was comforting. It helped her forget and it helped her remember. She gave the signal that killed so many. She did not know at that moment just what destruction it would bring, but desperation moved her hand. The guilt of her desperate action would stay with her for her entire life, as would all of the deaths she caused. Bryony would never be truly pure again.

She gardened all of her own food. Since that day, she had never taken the life of another animal, directly or indirectly. She ate no meat. The Tchuukthai who first welcomed her helped her find the supplies she needed to start her little garden and provide herself with food. Still, several times a year, she would hike the long trek to the nearest settlement to trade for supplies she needed. She had little to trade with, only grass weavings of different sizes, shapes, and functions. They were worth very little, but the Tchuukthai had sympathy for her—more sympathy for her than she deserved—and gave her what she needed in return. The guilt of being a dependent guest got to Bryony sometimes, so she did her best to subsist on her own from season to season.

She worked in the dirt, drew life out of seeds into flowering and fruiting plants. This also was part of her purification. If she worked to live, worked not to harm any other living beings, not to be a burden to any other living beings, just maybe she could find peace with herself.

That was what she kept telling herself, but the peace never came. The longer she stayed in her exile on Tchuukthai, the farther away that hope of peace seemed to get.

As she stared out past the waving grasses to the strand of trees at the horizon that marked the beginning of the village territory, she saw someone moving through the grasses. Instinctively, she reached out her senses to investigate, but she sensed nothing. Even after all these years, her subconscious kept forgetting that the Force had been ripped from her, a punishment for her actions during the war.

Instead, she watched. She followed no schedules. Time for her was organic, rather than the clicking of a chrono her her wrist. She squinted at the figure that headed directly for her tree and her hut. The figure became more than just a speck as it drew nearer. Whatever it was, it was not a Tchuukthai. The brilliant blue color gave that away. Was it blue skin or blue clothing? A blue shirt was more likely, given how many alien races there were in the galaxy that had skin that particular shade of brilliant blue.

The figure was also too small, she realized as it came closer still. Too thinly built to be a Tchuukthai, it also walked on two feet with arms swinging at its sides.

For a moment, the figure disappeared behind a rise in the land and the waving grasses. When he appeared over the crown of the hill—and it was a he—Bryony could easily make out that he was an average looking human man with dark hair and olive colored skin much like her own. For a moment, from the shaggy cut of his hair, she had the thrilling hope that he might be her brother Kaden, come to get her and to forgive her. That hope was quickly dashed. His eyes and his walk were all wrong. Still, why would another human come looking for her here? Who even knew that she was here, other than the Tchuukthai of the nearby town?

This man, evidently.

As he approached the base of her own little hill, Bryony stepped out of the shadows of her thatched roof and onto the dirt path from her garden to her front door. Whoever he was, she would greet him. It had been years since she spoke Basic to another human being. She hoped all this time alone had not altered her too badly.

"Hello there," he called with a congenial wave as he topped the hill to her house. "Sorry to intrude on your privacy," he apologized immediately.

"It's nothing," Bryony waved, "I haven't had company in a long while. It isn't so much privacy as exile, and even an exile welcomes company."

"Especially an exile, huh," the man commented with a warm grin as he walked up the path towards her. He extended his hand in greeting, saying "I'm Arvor Flowers, pilot and businessman. I trade with the Tchuukthai here."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Flowers," Bryony replied, shaking his hand, "I am Bryony Thuvell. I garden and serve out my penance for the war here."

"You're that famous Jedi general, aren't you," Arvor wondered out loud.

She nodded. Her fame chased her still. "I served under the Revanchist during the later part of the Mandalorian Wars," she admitted, "But I returned to the Jedi to face judgment for my war crimes."

"And they cast you out for daring to end the war," Arvor whistled, "Funny how things like that work out for Jedi like you. I never understood how the Jedi run things."

"I am a Jedi no longer," Bryony clarified, "Just a war exile. The Jedi Order cast me out. I no longer feel the Force like them."

"Tough punishment for Malachor V, if you ask me," Arvor replied. Bryony did not need reminding. Every day that she woke up, feeling the silence of the Force pressing in around her like the void, it tore at her very being. She was incomplete in a way that could never be completed again. History could not be rewritten. "Though, you wouldn't know it if you've been out here all this while: the Jedi are gone now. No one has seen or heard from the Jed council in over a year, maybe two. I'd say there's no reason for you to hang around this bit of unknown space any longer. No one is going to send you back out."

"They're gone?" Bryony gaped, "But how?"

"There was another war. I guess if you've been out of touch this long, you wouldn't have known that Revan took all of her ships and went out to the Unknown Regions herself, chasing after Mandalorians, or so she said. Two years later, she came back, with an even bigger fleet, and spent the next couple of years beating the Republic to a bloody pulp. Until she reformed, turned around, killed Darth Malak, and ended the whole bloody war herself. I hear the Jedi and the Sith wiped each other out pretty good and kept picking each other off since the war ended until now there's none of them left at all. Except you, I guess."

"I told you, I'm not a Jedi," Bryony reminded gently.

"Fine," Arvor raised his hands defensively.

"So how did you find me here anyway? Why walk all the way out here?" Bryony asked. Not even the Tchuukthai visited her.

Arvor shrugged. "I was curious," he replied noncommittally, "When I heard the locals mention that there was another human on this planet, permanently, who came into town now and then, I had to see for myself why anyone would want to live out here alone. They said you were a war exile, so I had my guesses, but I had to know for myself. I was a soldier in the Republic Navy back then, pilot, actually. But my squadron was on escort duty for the _Leviathan_, we didn't see that last battle, except for the aftermath of it." He let that hang in the air with all of the images associated with it.

"But you did not go with Revan when she went into the unknown regions?" she asked.

"Nope," he replied causally, "My squadron was actually on loan from Corellia's Royal Navy. When the war was over, we went home and defended our own borders again. I served up my tour and moved into freighting. I got set up with this job on Tchuukthai by a favor of an old friend who was retiring, on the condition that I keep it a complete secret, and I have until this day."

Bryony nodded but found nothing to say. It had been too long since she had held any kind of conversation, even with the locals.

"Say, why don't you come back to the living? It's been, what, ten years since the war ended? That's a long time to waste away in the Unknown Regions. I can give you a ride back to known space on my way out of here," Arvor offered, "Your Jedi Council is gone, so what harm can it be? You might find life more fulfilling with more than just this tree for company."

Bryony wanted to refuse. Duty pinned her to exile, but if the Jedi truly were gone, the same duty drew her back to the Republic, wanting to help. She missed people more than she could admit to herself. She wished for a normal life again, but what could basket weaving do for her future career? It was something, though. At the very least, she could find work on a remote agricultural world. That would be a step in the right direction, a step that was difficult for her to take even after all this time.

Arvor waited patiently while she thought. Again, she reached out to the Force for guidance, but found nothing, as always. "Thank you, Mr. Flowers, but I don't have anything to pay you with besides what's in my garden and a few baskets I've woven."

"Then call it a deal," Arvor grasped her hand and shook it to confirm his commitment to it, "I wasn't expecting you to be rolling in riches: an ex-Jedi living by herself in a mud hut in the Tchuukthai wilderness."

"I will need a bit of time to get ready," Bryony said slowly, still terrified of the commitment she was making, stepping off into the unknown. "When do you plan to leave?"

"Sometime tomorrow morning," he replied with a shrug. "I can come and pick you up," he offered.

"No, that's alright," Bryony argued lightly, "I will walk to town when I am ready. I don't have much."

"Suit yourself then," he shrugged again. Glancing at the sun, he raised his hands to the horizon and counted his fingers, "It looks like I don't have much time left before the sun sets. It does set quickly here. I should get going back to the village."

"Thank you, Arvor," Bryony said, "Thank you for the offer. I will see you in town tomorrow."

"Alright, Bryony, I'll see you tomorrow," he said, and with one last wave, sauntered off down the hill, back towards the trees on the horizon.

Bryony watched him go. The sun sank lower on the horizon and cast long shadows on his departure. The shadows accentuated each wind-teased blade of grass. She thought over the afternoon. Where had he come from? Why? Why would a trader like him want to visit her or offer her a ride, an escape from this long exile?

Camaraderie perhaps? He might bear survivors guilt from the war, just as she did. Though she doubted anyone's guilt could be as heavy, short of Revan or Malak.

She wondered about her old friends, Alek and Roan'ev. Malak and Revan. They had turned to the Dark Side, that much was evident from Arvor's story. Half of her wanted to deny that that was even possible, but the other half knew that it was entirely too likely. She had seen the beginnings of their fall in the end of the war; their desperate tactics and calculated sacrifices. Roan'ev had known exactly what she was doing with every move. She knew exactly what it cost her, as much as she would deny it publicly. Alek—Malak followed her lead with all the subtly of a hammer, never catching onto Revan's subtleties himself. If Revan fell, Malak would have followed her into the darkness.

And then she was redeemed, but Malak was not. Again with the subtleties of character. Bryony stared at the sky, the first starts beginning to appear by twilight. She mourned for him. She had mourned for the people she had killed for years, but never thought to mourn for her friend. Malak may have become a villain, and she was sure that the galaxy celebrated with his death, but Bryony would always remember Alek Squinquargesimus, her friend. While no one else mourned him, she would.

With a sigh, she started out at the horizon and the tree line again. Even if Arvor hadn't reached the village by now, his silhouette was lost to the shadows. Bryony turned back to her hut and slowly walked back inside. It was time to get packing. She needed to decided what of these ten years she need to take with her and what she would leave behind.

It was time for a new beginning.


	34. Chapter 34

Part 34- Chances and Rumors

Mical's hail to the _Sojourn_ came as somewhat of a surprise to Carth. He had not expected to hear from Mical so soon. Only last week he returned from Ossus with two months' worth of findings on the Jedi, but little that would help Carth in his own search for Ev, or any of the other Jedi. Upon receiving the message from one of his lieutenants, Carth immediately ordered for a shuttle to be sent down to Citadel Station to retrieve the young historian.

Mical arrived approximately an hour later at his office door. "Admiral Onasi, Mical Tarwellen is here to see you," the soldier who had escorted him announced through the comm system at the door.

"Let him in," Carth instructed. A moment later, the door hissed open and Mical stepped inside. He greeted Carth with a small, polite bow.

"Mical, good to see you," Carth said, standing to greet him, "How are you?"

"Fine thank you," Mical replied and stepped up to the desk. He waited for Carth to take a seat before he sat down in his usual chair across from it, "How are you?"

"Not bad," Carth admitted. He knew he looked tired. He was not sleeping much these days. The better he did at administrative work for the navy, the more they poured it on to him. The _Sojourn_ was now his own portable office and command center. He coordinated seven other fleets indirectly through their captains on completely unrelated campaigns from Telos. One of these days, he would do badly on purpose, just so they would take one or two of those fleets out from his command. "What can I do for you today?"

"I have some news you might find interesting," Mical replied.

"Oh? What did you find this time?" Carth asked, "I didn't know you were out in the field again?"

"I was not," Mical replied, "I was simply surfing around the HoloNet and discovered this tidbit about a Mandalorian Wars Jedi General who seems to have returned to republic space after a long absence on the outer rim." Mical slipped a datapad from his satchel and slid it onto the desk in front of Carth, or as close as he could get amidst all the other management clutter.

As Carth took it in his hands and scanned over it, Mical summarized, "Bryony Thuvell, Jedi General most notable for the victory at Malachor V has been in exile all of these years, out in the unknown regions, and has just returned," he explained, "No reasons for her return are giving in the article, but I can only guess that she has heard of the trouble for the Jedi order had has come back to do something about it. Thuvell was a great leader, though the Jedi order gave her little credit for it after the war."

"This is from _Galactic Personnel_," Carth observed the source material, "That's a celebrity rumor monger magazine. Are you sure that's a reputable source?"

"In this case, it seems so," Mical replied, "The criminal circuit that has been placing bounties on Jedi in general just placed a bounty on her head twice as high as their general bounty. They take these rumors seriously enough to stake lots of credits on her."

"She is that important?" Carth asked.

"She was then, and history does not exaggerate," Mical replied.

"Then we need to find her and bring her here safely," Carth said, "The Republic Military can provide her with sanctuary."

"And you wish to ask her about her travels on the outer rim, no doubt. Maybe she has seen the one you are looking for in her travels," Mical observed. "It appears that she was last seen on Thila in the Illisurevimurasi sector."

Carth inclined his head in a slight nod. "I have a friend, a Captain Quenlin who pilots the _Harbinger_. He was close to the Mirial system last I heard. In fact, he is under my command, as of last week. I could make this happen."

"Then I will leave that to you, Admiral," Mical replied, "I have not seen you this excited in a long while. I hope she has answers for you."

"So do I," Carth replied heavily, "So do I."


	35. Chapter 35

Part 35- The Hunters

Nar Shaddaa hummed with life, and with death, as it always did. Mira was right at the center of it, as she always was. The area around the refugee district seemed to always have the most going wrong with it, and the most folks hiding who really did not want to be found. Finding them was her specialty. As a bounty hunter, Mira rarely had to leave Nar Shaddaa, or even the area around the refugee district, to earn her keep. Besides, she was the best, and she did not have to kill her targets to prove it. Where there were bounties, she would cash in on them in the end.

She sat along the bar of her favorite human-friendly cantina just outside of the refugee district, the Entertainment Promenade. Some Biths played mellow music on a low stage at the other end of the cantina while the patrons carried out their business in the well-lit space. The cantina's owner seemed to believe that adequate lighting would keep down the illicit business that often happened under the tables at such places, but Mira knew better, especially when it was widely known that he did not have adequate security recording equipment installed. _Sure, invest in a few extra lights and neglect your cameras and bugs._

Not that Mira had any illicit business to do here. She just wanted dinner and a drink, with hard-earned, legal credits. Then again, there wasn't much that was illegal in Hutt space. That suited her just fine.

Mira sipped at her drink and browsed through the latest HoloNet headlines on her datapad as she waited for her meal to arrive.

"More assassinations, more senators caught in scandals, more speculation on the disappearance of the Jedi. I would have thought they'd have gotten over that fixation a year ago," Mira murmured as she flicked her finger along the scroll bar, looking for something interesting. "Oh, what's this?" a headline from one of the gossip presses caught her eyes, 'Mandalorian Wars famed Jedi General Thuvell, thought long dead, recently sighted on Thila.' "So they aren't all dead after all," Mira mused to herself. "I wonder if this one has made the Black List yet."

She navigated away from the more main-stream news and to a listing she herself used much more frequently: the Galactic Exchange Bounty List. Mira scrolled through, looking for new postings, and then she saw it: 'Jedi General Thuvell: wanted, preferably alive.' She whistled appreciatively at the price on the Jedi's head. She had never seen a bounty that high in her life, save when some lower-level idiot in the exchange decided to put a bounty on Darth Malak himself. Stupid idea. Neither the bounty nor the man lasted long. With the amount offered for this one Jedi, Mira could buy her own planet and still have some left over for retirement.

"If that Jedi ever comes near my territory, she's mine," Mira told the datapad with a confident grin.

"Oh, you think so, do you?" trilled a familiar voice that Mira loathed to hear.

"Lovely huntress, you are mistaken," a nearly identical voice cooed.

Mira spun around on her stool, and glared sourly at the two lithe Twi'lek women standing behind her. Both wore skin-tight black pleather clothes that hardly covered more of their skin than the average two-piece bathing suit. The Twin Suns were two ex-slave dancers who were part cocky, blood-thirsty killers and part man-hunting sluts. Mira hated them, but the Bounty Hunter truce prevented her from doing anything to get rid of them. "Get out of here, tramps," Mira snapped, "Can't you leave a woman to her meal?"

"That doesn't look like a meal to me," Seer'aa observed as she slunk up to Mira and leaned on the bar next to her, "I would say that looks like business research."

"Research that we have already done, little huntress," Teer'aa added. "You are already behind."

"Doesn't mean I can't catch up with you," Mira shot back, "The minute she steps foot into this sector, she will be mine."

"But won't you be too squeamish to take a Jedi on your own?" Teer'aa taunted, "Jedi must be killed before they peer into your mind."

"Still don't believe me that I can do it better than you can?" Mira retorted, "And still keep my targets alive? Just watch me. A Jedi is no different than any other target to me, and I will have this one. She's worth far more alive."

"Oh, I am sure you will," Seer'aa said with silky sarcasm. She backed away from the bar, drawing two fingers lightly across Mira's hand as she went.

"Don't touch me!" Mira snapped, and drew her hand back. "Now either you buy some dinner like every other customer here or you get out of here."

"She talks big, but can she deliver?" Teer'aa taunted, then turned and sauntered off. Her sister followed after her, lekku and hips swinging alluringly with every step.

"Tramps," Mira muttered angrily and turned back to her juice. _I will have that Jedi._


	36. Chapter 36

Part 36- The Scholar and the Pilot

With her favorite pop music blaring, Kionee jammed around her apartment with a dust rag, half-sweeping, half-dancing the dust off of all of her furniture as she sang along, not caring how ridiculous she sounded.

It had been far too long since she last gave her apartment a good cleaning. There was still the hamper of recently washed clothes in the corner that she had to fold and the clutter unceremoniously shoved under her bed to be dealt with later. But a good cleaning day was what the Orange Nova Girls were best for. They were always best enjoyed when singing along at the top of your longs while not paying too close attention to the lyrics.

When, in the midst of all this, there came a rapping sound at her door, it took her a moment to realize that it was not an extra drum fill, but that she had a visitor. Kionee dashed over to her speakers and turned down the dial and then rushed over to the door. Her visitor was knocking again. Without inquiring through the visitor comm first, Kionee punched the release button and the door shot upward in its tracks.

Mical stood patiently outside, waiting for her.

"Mical," Kionee blurted, a bit stunned, "Hi. Good to see you." _I did give him my module address with my contact info, didn't I?_

"Hello Kionee. I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Mical said apologetically with a cautious glance into the apartment over Kionee's shoulder.

"Oh, no," Kionee shook her head quickly, "Not at all. I was just cleaning my place up a bit." She paused, trying to think of something clever to say, but nothing came. "Come on in," she invited finally and stepped back out of the doorway to give him space.

With a nod, Mical came inside, and Kionee let the door shut behind him.

"You have a nice apartment here," Mical complimented.

"Thanks," Kionee replied. "Considering it was one of the first residential modules on the station." They stood across from each other in the apartment's entry, not really making eye contact. After a pause, she added dumbly, "I guess I forgot that I told you my module number."

"I'm sorry I did not contact you before dropping by," Mical apologized.

"No, don't be," Kionee protested, "I wasn't doing anything important. I'm always glad to have visitors."

"I stopped by," Mical started while pulling something out of his back pocket with his left hand, "Because I found an article I thought you might find interesting." He held out a small datadisk for her.

Taking it, Kionee replied, "Thanks."

"It's about an experimental chef on Coruscant who has invented a line of cuisines of gelatinized fruit and vegetable juices, in beads," Mical explained, "while keeping it completely organic."

"That sounds pretty cool," replied, brightening up at the gift and the thought rather than the topic of the article. "Do you want to sit down?" she asked, gesturing to the small sofa on the opposite wall, a recent addition to her furniture.

"Oh, thank you," Mical said and moved over to the sofa.

Meanwhile, Kionee strode over to her desk and placed the holodisk on top for later reading before returning to her small plush chair near where Mical sat. "Thanks for coming by," she started, "Where did you find that article?"

"In a chemistry publication I subscribe to, oddly enough," Mical admitted with a laugh, "The chemistry needed to produce such beads without additional chemicals is really quite fascinating."

"I bet," Kionee replied, trying to sound as excited, "I'll have to ask Dad about it next time he calls. I'd be willing to bet he's already had his sample of those fruit beads, or will very soon. He always keeps on top of stuff like that." She paused then added, "But really, I thought you studied history. Chemistry too now? What don't you study?"

Mical laughed, "There is very little that I don't dabble in from time to time. I really am a student of the galaxy, and whatever it has to offer."

"Man, I wish I could live like that," Kionee said wistfully, "Always seeing new places and learning new things."

Mical laughed. "Correct me if I am wrong, Kionee," he started, "But I think you already do just that, only I study with my nose in a book, and your studies are studies of experience and interaction. I would hazard to say that you are one of the most knowledgeable people on Citadel Station when it comes to the galaxy at large."

Kionee blushed. "It's not because I try at it," she protested.

"And that is precisely why your knowledge base is so broad," Mical insisted, "I am sure you have been to perhaps a hundred times as many systems as I have in my lifetime."

"I'm a pilot, it's what I do," Kionee replied.

"There are days I wish I had learned to pilot, myself, when I got the chance," Mical admitted.

"I could teach you the basics sometime," Kionee offered before she was aware the words were coming out of her mouth.

"Always generosity," Mical chuckled. "But no, I have enough on my plate at the moment. As always, I appreciate the offer." Glancing around the apartment, he commented, "You have some lovely photos on your wall here."

"Thanks," Kionee said, "I kind of collect them. I didn't take them myself though. I'm no photographer."

"I see Ahto City there, and is that Telos before the Jedi Civil War?" Mical asked. Kionee nodded affirmatively and he continued, "What of these three? I don't recognize those places."

"Places I've lived as a kid," Kionee answered. "The first one is the Western Plains of Nubia, where I was born."

"It looks pristine, a lovely place," Mical commented, "I think I would like to visit there one day. When one hears of Nubia, the first thing to come to mind is the shipyards. The Nubian natural world is not often spoken of."

"It really is nice," Kionee nodded. "But maybe I'm biased, because that's where my family came from. The next one there is Drall, the first place Dad moved us to when he started Rinnh Imports, and the third one is Rodia, where we lived after that."

"All much more beautiful places than told by the geography texts," Mical praised.

"Those were all great photographers too," Kionee insisted, "It's amazing what a good camera, lighting, and perspective can do to make a place look beautiful. Get one of these guys down on the surface of Telos and I'm sure they could make it look like a dream too."

Mical laughed, "You might be right. All the same, they all seem to be beautiful places."

"I won't argue with that," Kionee replied.

"Kionee, I wanted to ask you," Mical started again, "Could you take me Dantooine? Not immediately, of course, but whenever it's next convenient for you. I have more research on the Jedi that I would like to do there."

"Sure, of course," Kionee replied. She could never turn him down. "I can't really this week or next week. Dantooine is a bit farther and would take more than my usual two-day break. I would need to arrange for a longer break between runs in order to take you out there."

"As I said, there isn't any rush," he insisted, "I have plenty to keep me busy here yet. I appreciate you taking me whenever you are able, amid your already busy schedule."

"It's no trouble at all," Kionee excited, "I sometimes get kind of bored just running back and forth between two planets all the time. Your little research trips puts some interest back into my routes. I enjoy it."

"I'm glad it isn't any trouble for you," Mical sounded relieved.

"I'll have to get back to you on this, though," Kionee said. "I can let you know after my next run and back when would work for me. It's hard to know when the busy periods are going to be down on the surface. Sometimes the Ithorians realize they suddenly need something in large quantities to balance off the ecosystem in one of the sectors down there."

"Of course, I understand," Mical said, "Your work with the Telos Restoration Project should always take precedence over the research whims of a friend."

"Thanks for understanding," Kionee replied, struggling for something to say.

"Well, I should not keep you from your cleaning any longer," Mical said, standing up.

"It's alright," Kionee assured him, standing up as well, "I could make you some tea."

"No, I really should be going," Mical protested, "But thank you."

"Well, I'll get back to you about going to Dantooine as soon as I have a better handle on my schedule of shipments," Kionee promised as she saw him to the door. "Thanks for the article and for dropping by. It was good to see you."

"If need be, you can find me in Residential Module 171 B-2," Mical said. It was the first time he had trusted Kionee with personal contact information beyond a temporary number for the comm that he carried. "It was good to see you too, Kionee."

With that, he let himself out of the apartment and headed out into the main corridor. Kionee's heart beat fast as she watched him go. She did not close the door again until he had turned the corner and walked out of sight.

As she turned her music back on and resumed her cleaning, Kionee could not wipe the silly grin off of her face. She doubted she would even be able to frown at all for several days to come. Mical came to visit with a gift and even called her his friend.

Starting into her pile of unfolded laundry, Kionee turned her music back on and began to sing again at the top of her lungs.

Two weeks later, with the _Viridian_ safely in hyperspace headed for Dantooine, Kionee could relax, that is, if didn't feel quite so compelled to be on her absolutely best behavior with Mical around. Emtee seemed to find the whole situation amusing, but respectfully kept his opinions to himself while Mical was on board.

There was not much social space for relaxing in the _Viridian,_ only the cockpit, the two small bunk rooms, and the large hold. Kionee and Mical pulled a couple of crates together in the hold for chairs and a small table where Kionee brushed up on her crib-cage game against Mical. The game of counting cards to fifteen and thirty-one was not one she had played since her youth, but Mical was endlessly patient, as always.

"It's your cage," Mical reminded her, pointing to the extra hand of cards lying on the crate between them, "You get the extra cards this round. You dealt."

"Right," Kionee said, snatching up the cards and counting their points quickly then added them to her total. "It really has been a while. This was one of grandpa's favorite games. Dad used to play it with me a lot on long hyperspace voyages, before I had my own ship."

"You certainly have had a rich life," Mical commented as he dealt out the cards, "And I don't mean your father's corporate fortune."

"What do you mean, then?" Kionee asked. Sure, she had a lot of money coming to her one day, and already had earned plenty that she never spent, but she never lived like a wealthy heiress. The wealth had come gradually, and her family had never really stopped living like entrepreneurs, even as the company grew.

"You have had the blessings of a warm, and supportive family that is always in your life," Mical explained, "You have had fulfilling work, seen the galaxy, saved lives, and followed after your dreams. You seemed to always know what your place was in the galaxy. You have always had the support you needed to chase those dreams, all along the way." He paused then added, "Please forgive me if I'm being presumptuous."

"Uh, no, not at all," Kionee stammered, the cards in her hand almost forgotten, "I really have been lucky. My family has always been awesome and there for me, letting me do whatever crazy things I get into my head to do. I've also been pretty lucky that none of those crazy things have gotten me killed. Not yet anyway." Kionee let out a forced laugh. One day her recklessness would catch up with her. In that moment, she met Mical's eyes and held his gaze, having self-consciously avoided eye contact throughout the game. In those light blue eyes was a look of longing, regret, or resignation. Kionee could not quite place it, but she could see that Mical's life had been less than perfect. "The way you say that," she started slowly, looking down at her cards, "You make it sound like you haven't had that kind of life."

"Not many people do, Kionee," Mical replied. Hazarding a glance up at him again, Kionee saw that he too was staring vaguely down at his own cards. "Perhaps I travel the galaxy, chasing history because I do not yet know my own place in it, and perhaps history can shed light on the present."

"Don't you have dreams?" Kionee asked.

"Dreams and goals do give one a sense of purpose," Mical replied enigmatically, then reminded, "You play first."

"Right," Kionee said and selected her first card to lie down on the crate.

"Do you ever look back at your career with Rinnh Imports from Telos and regret leaving that life behind?" Mical asked as he played is own card off of hers.

"Fifteen," Kionee said triumphantly as her second card went down, "Two points for me."

"Well played," Mical nodded and added his own card to the stack, "Twenty two."

"And nine makes thirty-one," Kionee slapped down her third card enthusiastically.

"And two more points for you," Mical smiled, then started over the count from the bottom with his next card. He laid his palm on the table and looked expectantly at her. "Do you regret it ever?" he reminded her.

"Sometimes, yeah," Kionee replied with a shrug, "I miss seeing more of the galaxy all the time. Just Telos and Onderon all the time gets kind of boring, but maybe I'm spoiled. I bet that's more than most people in the galaxy get to see week to week. Though, there's a whole lot of folks I'm not really seeing any more now that my travels and my business is confined to two systems."

"Yes, I imagine you would have plenty of friends all over the galaxy," Mical commented, nodding.

"More like lots of acquaintances," Kionee replied, "When you travel around as much as I did, as quickly as I did, you wind up with lots of great acquaintances and not a lot of close friends."

"I have found myself often in a similar situation," Mical admitted. "But I am not tied to two planets these days as you are."

"But you don't have a ship of your own," Kionee teased, "And trust me, I'll gladly take you wherever you want to go from Citadel. It's like a vacation for me. I miss hopping around the galaxy."

Mical laughed. "I will try not to hold you to that," he promised.

"I'm serious," Kionee protested. They counted their points and the game continued into the next round.

"What is going on on Telos really is encouraging," Mical said, "Amidst all of the other dysfunction in the Republic."

"Yeah," Kionee agreed, "It's amazing to see people actually cooperating and that cooperation actually going someplace. Telos was a gamble, and people say it still is, but it's working so far. So far, so good."

"And with people like you, Carth, and Jerol dedicated to the cause, I do not think it can fail, barring detrimental outside interference," Mical asserted.

"I really hope so," Kionee agreed, "Keep those sticky fingers of the doubters out of our project."

"I really am glad for having a chance to go to the surface and see for myself how it is progressing," Mical admitted, "And even help with my own two hands, however small it may have been. Thank you for that, again."

"I should be thanking you," Kionee replied brightly, "It was you that the cannok bit, not me. Not this time anyway."

Mical laughed.

"Your leg is doing better now?" she asked. He had not been limping at all lately.

"Yes, fine, thank you," he chuckled, "Just surface bruising. Nothing I could not treat myself. I am completely recovered."

"Good to hear," Kionee replied, and played one of her cards down.

"It was enjoyable to see your work," Mical said, "Even if I had that close encounter with a hungry cannok. You and your droid really do an admirable job keeping those creatures from killing each other all over your hold."

"Most of the time," Kionee said humorously.

"Although Telos is being planted with the seeds and the creatures of Onderon, it still remains its own distinct planet," Mical said, "I admit that I had feared, at first, that Telos would look like another Onderon, without its own personality and signature on the galaxy, but I now see that it will always remain Telos."

"Had you ever been there before the war?" Kionee asked.

Mical shook his head, "But I came shortly after the attack, a volunteer medic. It was still possible then to see what Telos had been underneath all the death and dying. Not long after, it withered into what much of the surface still is today."

"We might have been there at the same time," Kionee realized, "I joined the volunteer supply caravans myself as soon as I could. Dad was _thrilled_, but he did use some of his fund-raising clout to finance a whole hold or two full of supplies for the war victims before people realized that they had to get everyone off the planet anyway."

"The day the first settlement on the surface of Telos is opened up to Telosians will be a glorious day indeed," Mical said with a smile.

Dantooine's gold-green sphere filled the entire front viewport of the _Viridian_. The ship hummed as it slid into the atmosphere, glowing around the edges. Keeping a steady, practiced hand on the steering yoke, Kionee said, "I assume you're wanting to be put down near the old Jedi Enclave, right?"

"How do you know of the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine?" Mical asked, a little startled. "I do not believe I had mentioned it before, and it was a secret Jedi enclave, not meant to be known of by the galaxy at large."

"You forget how much I get around," Kionee laughed, "I've had contacts in that part of the continent since I was twenty. Dantooine is a fantastic agricultural world, and Rinnh Imports wasn't going to stay away from something like that."

Mical laughed. "Fine, you really have gotten around the galaxy," he admitted, "Sometimes it is easy to underestimate the breadth of your travels."

"Malak got the enclave near the end of the last war, didn't he?" Kionee asked.

Mical nodded, "I hate to think of how many younglings died in that attack, but Darth Malak was ruthless. In a way, I do not look forward to my first sight of the Jedi Enclave, after so many—" he caught himself and cut short.

"I guess that was just another step along the way to all of the Jedi disappearing on us," Kionee said quietly, "More deaths. What do you hope to find there?"

"Any history or artifacts the Jedi left behind," Mical replied, "Things that can teach us about the Jedi and preserve their knowledge for a day when they rise again."

"Do you think any Jedi might still be hanging around there?" Kionee asked.

"Doubtful," Mical admitted, "But I do hope that I will find some sign up them, still living. I cannot bring myself to believe that they are all dead."

"Me neither, I guess," Kionee replied, lessening the slope of the _Viridian's _descent as they neared the settlement around the ruins of the enclave. Again, her thoughts went to Ev, Juhani, Jolee, and Bastila, wanting to believe that they were all still alive, but with time, she was beginning to doubt. "The Jedi always seemed so powerful, so invincible. It was like no one could touch them. Except for the Sith."

"Jedi are bound by the same laws of life and death as all the other sentients in the galaxy," Mical sighed, "And in the Sith, their weaknesses were exposed to the bare bones. Had they acted more responsibly in action against the threats of these last wars, perhaps we would not now be facing an uncertain future without them. But it is useless speculating on what could have been. We have only to focus on what can be done now not to fail without them."

"I really hope they come back," Kionee said.

Soon, the _Viridian_ touched down on the single wide landing strip that sufficed as the only 'spaceport' in that remote region of Dantooine. At most, four freighters could park side-by-side, and that was only with some very carefully maneuvered landing. Thankfully, there was only one other, smaller ship landed when they arrived.

Kionee and Mical disembarked. Kionee breathed in the warm, crisp air of the first temperate climate she had experienced in months. "Ah, it feels good to be back here again," she murmured as she stared up at the light, fluffy clouds.

Mical patted his satchel to make sure everything was secure then turned to Kionee, "Thank you again for your services, Kionee, and your company."

"Any time," Kionee insisted. "Just let me know when you're ready to leave this planet and I'll come and pick you up again. You know how to get a hold of me."

"That I do," Mical nodded. "Will you be returning to Telos immediately."

"No, I don't think so," Kionee replied, feeling momentarily lazy, "It's been a long time since I've been to Dantooine, and I haven't seen my friends here in a while. I think I'm going to drop in on the Sandrals, and see how they're doing after all this mess."

Mical smiled and nodded, "Then I will not keep you."

"You can come along if you want," Kionee offered, "I can introduce you. You might find it handy to know some folks around here with a couple spare bedrooms in their estate."

Mical started to protest, then laughed, "I think you may be right. Thank you, I would be glad to meet your friends."

"Then let's get going," she insisted. Turning back to the open loading ramp, she hollered, "Emtee, get down here! Do you want to go see the Sandrals or not?"

"Coming, coming," Emtee's voice accompanied the clattering of his metal feet on the metal flooring, "I am coming, Mistress Kionee."

Mical laughed again.

Kionee could not keep from grinning.


	37. Chapter 37

Part 37- A Misplaced Miner

Living in a cramped dormitory with three dozen other men on an explosive asteroid had never been on Atton Rand's list of life goals, or even in his plans, but screw-ups like him did not deserve logical or even comfortable trajectories. He was lucky to have a job at all, even if it was mining Peragus for fuel so that some idealistic reconstruction project on Telos could go on sucking out the Republic's funds while veterans like him struggled to make ends meet.

For some of the guys on Peragus, mining was a way of life; it was their life-long career. Not for Atton. It was neither in his past, nor in his future. He was getting off this rock as soon as he could.

While the rest of the miners poured straight out of the mines and into the dining halls like a bunch of half-starved cath hounds, Atton liked to ignore his hunger for a bit and enjoy the blissfully empty dormitory to himself. He would get his own dinner once the dining hall started to clear out and the dormitory filled up again.

Atton sat hunched over on his top bunk. It was all the narrow space between his mattress and the ceiling above allowed him. The wonderful silence in the dormitory was something that only the most remote mining channels on Peragus ever afforded, and even then there was the pervasive clicking of the mining droids to keep you company.

He carefully polished his blaster with a dirty shirt that needed to be washed anyway. Sure, blasters like this had no place on Peragus. They were contraband, in fact, thanks to the explosive nature of the asteroid they mined and lived in. All the same, Atton was attached to his blaster. It had been all over the galaxy with him, and he wasn't about to give it up to some weapons broker just because his new, temporary, job did not want him to have it. It stayed buried under his mattress, and it never caused anyone any trouble—besides that nasty sore spot in his back when he accidentally rolled over onto it in the middle of the night now and then.

It really was a beautiful blaster.

"Rand, what in the hell are you doing what that thing?" his bunk mate stormed into the section of the dormitory that they shared, whispering loudly.

Atton silently cursed himself for not being more careful or more aware of his surroundings. He instantly wrapped the blaster in his shirt, the polishing cloth. "What?" Atton asked, feigning innocence, even though he knew it was pointless, "I don't have anything. Just dirty clothes."

"So you're mending your dirty shirt with a firearm?" Jack demanded lowly, stalking up to the bed.

"There's no blaster here, Jack," Atton continued to insist. Men like Jack did give in eventually. Jack was no more moral than any of the other miners. He gambled as often as the rest and who knows what else. "Nothing," he repeated, dropping the wadded shirt and weapon onto the mattress between himself and the wall.

"What are you doing with that here, I know you're new here, but—" Jack whispered hoarsely, but Atton cut him off.

"And I don't plan to stay any longer than it takes to earn enough to pay my way to another rock," Atton interrupted, "Let's just say I can't let my old girlfriend go, even when I have to spend all this time earning my keep surrounded by nothing but a bunch of smelly men and mining droids."

Jack sighed and turned away. "You really won't last long if anyone finds you with that," he muttered.

"Finds me with what? I haven't got anything to find," Atton continued to play innocent.

"You're right, I didn't see anything," Jack faced him again with a hard stare, "You've got nothing, and there isn't anything for me to know about."

"Hey now, I thought we were talking about my estranged lady-friend," Atton raised his hands defensively.

"Ha," Jack laughed coarsely as he walked away, "Last lady-friend you had was some Hutt-slime whore on Nar Shadaa, I'd bet. I'm sure she's not waiting long for you, Rand."

Atton's face reddened at the insult, but he pushed it back down. This was no time to get angry, especially with a blaster on his bed. With one hand, he gingerly slid it, dirty shirt and all, back under the mattress beside him, while he forced a laugh and joked, "Hey now! Don't go trashing my girl. For a Hutt, she has a beautiful complexion!"

Jack laughed again without looking back at Atton and flopped down onto his own lower bunk on the other side of the chamber.

_I have to get off this rock. This place is such a dead-end, it just might kill me._ He heaved himself over the edge of the bed and onto the floor. It was time to get some food—and pray that Jack did not mention the blaster amid his usual sleep babble. That was the last thing Atton needed right now.


	38. Chapter 38

Part 38- Rediscovered

Thila was just as filthy and crawling with insidious life as any other major port in the outer rim. Here, anything could be bought and sold, from illicit services, to ships, to other sentients. Kreia reached out with the Force and combed the surfaces of all the minds around here. All the rumors she heard led her to this planet, and even to this very port, but she had arrived too late. The Jedi Exile had moved on. It was not long ago, however. The Exile's presence, a wound, echoed in the Force all over the spaceport, wherever she had stepped, she left a trail. Kreia would follow that trail to its source, even if it took her all over the galaxy. In the Exile was something she desperately needed to see, to experience, to harness.

Deep brown hood drawn over her head, Kreia's wrinkled face and white hair was lost to the shadows. Some might say an old woman had no business being in the Thila space port, but Kreia took her business where she would. Anyone who attempted to tell her otherwise, would soon be sorry for it.

Kreia followed the echoing trail in the Force through the docks, when suddenly she felt prompted to stop. There was the Force, meddling in her every move, as it always seemed to want to do. She would humor it. She stopped abruptly and looked around, reaching out through the Force. An Aqualish mumbled something angrily at her as he had to veer his path around her. She ignored him. In the docking bay set down below the raised walkway to her left was something she did not expect to see: the _Ebon Hawk_.

The old orange-striped Corellian freighter looked just as it had in all of the glorious war holos. To all knowledge, it had disappeared from known space four years ago, when Revan herself left the Republic for the unknown regions. That fact was not widely know, but Kreia made it her business to keep tabs on the Jedi, especially one who had once been her padawan.

And here was Revan's ship, on the remote spaceport of Thila. Revan was nowhere near by, not even in the system. Kreia did not have to look or inquire at the ship to know that. Revan's presence was so strong in the Force, that even if Kreia had not known her as a padawan, she would have shone out like a beacon among all of the dull, normal life forces that dimly glowed around her.

This begged the questions: just how did Revan's ship come to come here without her? What was it doing here? And, did anyone else here know the true value of the ship?

Kreia descended the durasteel stairs into the docking bay and approached the ship. There was a green-skinned Mirialan man under the ship, examining its underbelly.

"You there," Kreia called sharply, "Are you the owner of this ship?"

"Owner and pilot. Avet Kandis at your service," the man answered proudly and walked out towards here, "Who wants to know, old woman?"

Kreia did not answer. He would not get her name unless she wanted to give it to him. "If I am not mistaken," she observed keenly, "This ship is the freighter known as the _Ebon Hawk._"

"For an old lady, you sure know a lot about ships," he replied, both impressed and wary.

"I knew one of its previous owners, as it happens," Kreia replied crisply. _Let him stew on that_.

"Hey now," Avet said defensively, "I got this ship fair and square. It's mine now, no matter who flew it before." Deceit rolled off of him in waves

"Is that so?" Kreia asked, taking a step towards him. The lean Mirialan held his ground, but he gave no further explanation. If he would give none, she would take it from him. Kreia extended her hand towards him and found his mind with the Force. She slipped in. Finding her answer was easy. Avet was thinking hard on precisely the event that he was determined not to tell her about. She shuffled through his thoughts, forcing him to think about earlier events that led up to his ownership of the _Ebon Hawk_.

"What's—ah!" Avet moaned and grabbed at his head with both hands.

Kreia's lips parted in a thin smile.

"_Nice ship there, don't you say?" Avet observed to Kepsii, his friend and business partner._

"_And it's been there at the refueling station for over an hour," Kepsii observed. No one has come on or off it, just that little droid busy making sure it's fueled. Who lets their astromech do all their maintenance for them anyway?"_

"_I haven't even seen anyone in the cockpit either," Avet added. "I think we have an abandoned ship here."_

_Kepsii grinned at him. "Shall we take a look around?" she suggested, "We've been stranded on Barseg for long enough. And it's such a shame for such a nice looking ship to waste around like that."_

"_I like the way you think. You ready to leave this rock, now?" Avet asked. With this chance before them, they couldn't waste time to go back to their shoddy apartment for anything. It was now or never._

"_Let's get out of here Avet," Kepsii replied, grinning even more broadly, "It's time was got ourselves a ship."_

So the pair of Mirialans walked right onto the _Ebon Hawk_ and took it for themselves. Only the little astromech droid gave them any trouble. An ion blast and a restraining bolt took care of that quickly enough. Now the two of them were parading around the other rim with it, pretending that it was theirs, all the while watching their back for any owners who might come back to claim it.

Kreia pulled out of his mind and observed, "So it's finders keepers, is it now?"

"I don't know how you..." Avet panted.

"Oh, there are many more terrible things that one can do with the Force," Kreia cooed dangerously under her breath, "I now have the information I wanted to know, and I was able to spare your lips the trouble of speaking it."

"You're, you're one of those Jedi!" Avet exclaimed with a shaky finger pointed at her warningly.

"No," Kreia said, "You would not have to fear a Jedi."

"What do you want?" the man blubbered.

"I have a place I need to go, a person I need to find," Kreia said, "And I want to go there aboard the _Ebon Hawk._"

"We don't take passengers," Avet said warningly, "Especially not crazy old—"

"Either you will take me there, fool," Kreia snapped sharply at a dangerous whisper, "Or I will take myself there and leave you dry on these docks. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, yes," he stammered, "Very clear. When do you want to go?"

"Now," Kreia replied shortly, "The trail to my quarry is growing staler by the minute."

"I will just call Kepsii, she's out getting supplies," Avet stuttered.

"You do that," Kreia said smoothly, "And I will be aboard, waiting for you to return."

"You can't think me that stupid, to let a total stranger aboard my ship while I am out," Avet pointed out, irritated.

"Then you should pray that I am still feeling generous," Kreia threatened, "Get your friend. I will wait for you." She nudged his mind again, planting the suggestion firmly within his consciousness.

"I will go get my friend," he said, shooting her one last distrustful look, he dashed off.

Kreia smirked beneath the shadows of her hood and slowly ascended the loading ramp into the _Ebon Hawk_. There would be much to learn aboard this ship. Where had Revan gone and why did she not have her ship with her anymore? Because she did not need it any more. That much was clear. The real question was: why? Revan did nothing without careful calculation.

A small silver astromech scooted into the chamber at the sound of her footsteps. Revan's droid too, no doubt. It tilted its head piece side to side and regarded her with a curious, "Dwooo?" This droid alone could have invaluable information in its memory banks, if the two Mirialans had not been stupid enough to wipe its memory already.

A second, orange plated astromech of the same shape scooted into behind the first and fired off two inquisitive beeps at her as well. She ignored them both.

Before she investigated the droids or even the mysteries of the _Ebon Hawk_, she had more pressing things to discover. Where had the Jedi Exile gone? Now that she had a ship, she needed direction. Kreia sat down on the cold, metal flooring of the ship and began to meditate. She could sense that the Exile was still nearby, in the relative galactic neighborhood. The Force might have used her to reclaim this ship, but now she would use the Force to direct that ship to her goal. "Where are you, Exile?" she whispered into the Force, and, across the vastness of space, the Force gave her an answer.


End file.
